Broken Things
by siriusoriion
Summary: He stood, his mouth opening and closing dumbly, and she laughed. "It's alright, Malfoy, I get it. You've shared enough feelings tonight to last the rest of your life. Don't hurt yourself." "Draco," he mumbled at her, just as she turned to walk out of the bedroom. "What?" "You can call me Draco. It's my name, you know."
1. Chapter 1

NOTE: My first Dramione! Hopefully it measures up!

CHAPTER 1

Draco Malfoy's welcome to the new Order of the Phoenix headquarters was not a warm one. The very instant he crossed _that_ _godforsaken_ _threshold_ he was greeted by more than one immobilizing spell and ear splitting shouts of alarm, quickly followed by no fewer than three wands pressed roughly into his throat.

 _"_ _HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?"_ Ron Weasley was shouting at him, never mind the fact that he couldn't answer even if he wanted to. Draco would have rolled his eyes if only he could move. _"We have to get out of here,"_ someone else was hissing, "We've clearly been compromised."

The roar of chaos overtaking the small room was drowning out Hermione Granger's hasty shouts of reassurance- it was actually quite impressive that so few people could make such an alarming amount of noise. Draco was rapidly beginning to doubt Granger's hesitant promise to protect him; when Ron kicked him onto the floor and drew back his wand, shouting in fury, he was certain he was going to die right there on the filthy kitchen floor. _At least_ _ **HE**_ _can't get to me if I'm dead,_ he thought bitterly to himself. Just as he was silently wishing he could close his eyes and shrink away from his impending doom at the hands of Weasley, the wand flew from Ron's hands and he was knocked backwards against the table with a deafening crash. At last, the kitchen fell silent.

"Wehaven'tbeencompromised," Granger said, all in a rush. She was holding her own wand in her right hand and Weasley's in her left. "…Ibroughthimhere."

Almost instantaneously, Ron was shrieking again. This time Potter joined in. "You _WHAT?_ " "He's a DEATH EATER!" "He KILLED DUMBLEDORE!"

Perhaps even worse than the yelling was Remus Lupin's soft "Hermione, I truly never believed you, of all people, could be so irresponsible." Draco would have collapsed if he hadn't already been lying immobile on the floor. He had known they wouldn't accept him, not after Dumbledore, but… he had _hoped_ , if only for a moment…

"If you lot would just LISTEN!" Now she was the one shouting. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see her nearly shaking with nerves (and probably rage.) "He's _defecting,"_ she tried to explain. "Where else would he go?"

"Right, that's convenient, isn't it? His little task of _murdering Dumbledore_ didn't gain enough favor with Voldemort, is that it? So now he's running away to try and be a hero to the other side? It's a little fucking late for that, _Malfoy,"_ Potter said with venom. Draco cringed. "And have you forgotten, Hermione, what he and his _people_ have done to you? He's called you Mudblood for the past six years, made your life a living hell. What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

"We are supposed to be _saving people,_ Harry, isn't that what this entire damned war is about? And he didn't kill Dumbledore, in case you've forgotten-" "As good as-" Weasley started to interrupt, but Granger plowed right on, speaking through gritted teeth. "Maybe if you'd just let him explain, like he did to me, you'd… you'd…" She shook her head and wordlessly released the spell that held him immobilized; Draco just curled into a smaller ball, squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his back against the row of cabinets behind him. He was trying _very_ hard to forget how many times he had trembled on the floor of the Manor like this, shrinking into himself as he was punished.

The Order members surrounding him all stepped closer, crouching defensively with their wands outstretched.

Potter immediately started in on him again. "Look at you, cowering on the floor, you _ARSE-"_

"He was going to kill my mother," Draco choked out. He hadn't even opened his eyes.

"Right, so one threat against your Death Eater mother makes it okay for you to _murder_ plenty of other innocent-" Draco didn't even have his wand on him, but he was off the floor and leaping towards Weasley before he had even finished the sentence, fully intent on causing harm. _"SHE'S MY MOTHER,"_ he was shouting, still shouting, even as Hermione used magic to force him and Ron each down into separate kitchen chairs with hands in lap, immobile once again. At least this time he was off the floor.

For the second time since he had entered the safehouse, everything fell (nearly) silent. The only sounds were Ron Weasley's enraged spluttered expletives and Draco's panicked, tear-choked breathing. They all just stared at each other for several long moments, until Remus shook his head, cursing quietly, and strode into the hallway. They all heard the low sounds of muttered shielding and silencing charms being placed around the kitchen entrance. When he returned, he pulled out his own chair and sat across from Draco, looking at him expectantly.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy," he said. "You have a very short amount of time to give the lot of us a reason that we shouldn't ship you right off to Azkaban. Make it believable."

Draco felt his chin quivering and he hated himself for it, hated the bloody _Dark Lord_ for turning _Draco Malfoy_ into a frightened, traumatized child. When he didn't immediately answer, Harry glared at him and added, "We'll know if you're lying." Hermione looked at him encouragingly and he hated her for that, too. He hated himself for lapping up his father's bullshit for 17 years, for taking the Mark because _how could he not_ when that _thing_ was living in his own house, for agreeing to kill Dumbledore, for running like a child to Hermione fucking Granger, the very person he had spent the last six school years tormenting. He hated _everything,_ but he knew if he didn't speak quickly, he'd be in an even worse predicament than frozen to a chair, so he started to talk. Everything poured out of him in a rush.

"…And then I was on the tower, there, and I needed to just _kill_ him but I couldn't do it. I couldn't." He shook his head jerkily, unable to press the tears from his eyes with his hands frozen in his lap. Draco _hated_ himself for crying. "Snape did it and was rushing me away and I just knew I had killed my mother, because just like _he_ said I failed, at everything. I couldn't even finish a mission when my mother's own life depended on it, and… he _tortured_ me Potter, I thought I was going to die too." He swallowed thickly and stared at the floor as he struggled to choke out the rest of his story, tracing the dirty cracks with his eyes: a distraction so he didn't have to listen to himself talk. "He told me I have a new mission now, now that Snape's betrayed you. He wants me to be his new spy. And if the information I bring isn't _good enough,_ he's going to kill her." He finally looked up, silver bloodshot eyes meeting Harry Potter's penetrating green ones. "He's going to make me watch."

"What makes you think we would ever let you leave this place again? You're betraying your own side as we speak. Not to mention you just admitted to being a spy." Harry kept staring at him. At least he had stopped with the shouting.

"I'm not actually going to spy! I don't _want_ to go back there," Draco said, horrified. "I want to get my mother out and stay the fuck away from the Dark Lord for the rest of my life, I-"

" _Voldemort,"_ said Harry. "Don't fear his ridiculous name."

"If you'd been as close to him for as long as I have, Potter, you'd fear him too."

"Who are you and what have you done with Malfoy?" Ron demanded. "That tosser wouldn't be caught dead sharing his _feelings_ with Harry Potter, much less a room full of Gryffindors."

Draco clenched his teeth and bit back the insult he wanted to hurl back at Weasley. He was at these people's mercy; he might as well play polite. Mildly polite, anyway- a few tears didn't totally cure him of the desire to insult Ron Weasley. "I wouldn't be sharing any feelings at all, especially not with you, _Weasel_ , if my life didn't quite literally depend on it. I'm surprised you lot haven't Avada'd me yet, to be frank."

"Oh, because that's what you would have done, is it?" demanded Harry. Draco felt the blood drain from his face again.

"He hasn't killed anyone, you know." The words were quiet, and Draco found himself silently thanking Granger, even as he hated her. "I know how you all feel about him- believe me Ron, yes I do- but if there wasn't any good left in him, he wouldn't be sitting here." Potter and Weasley were both staring at her: the former's expression unreadable, the latter's one of flushed incredulity. Remus Lupin, however, had fixed Draco with a calculating stare.

"We aren't going to kill you, Mr. Malfoy," he said levelly. "Hermione is right. We are fighting this war to save people. Including those who have found themselves on the wrong side of the battlefield." Draco blinked a few times in surprise and relief before the man continued. "That does not mean that I trust you. I believe what you've told us tonight, sudden as it may seem. I am, however, concerned with your tendency to dart from one allegiance to the next based on what suits your need," he said bluntly. "What value do you have to the Order of the Phoenix, Draco Malfoy?"

Draco lifted his chin defiantly. "I'm going to provide information, of course."

"What kind of information?"

Before Draco could respond, Hermione cut in, speaking directly to Lupin.

"Remus," she said quietly, "When Dumbledore… Before he… died, he gave us a mission. Harry, Ron and I. Malfoy might… he has information related to that. For us."

The man looked at her coolly. "Should I take that as a dismissal?"

"No, no!" She said hastily. "It isn't… It's just that-"

"The more people who know about this, the more dangerous it becomes, Remus." This time it was Harry who spoke. "But I trust you to hear whatever it is he has to say. It stays in this room." Remus nodded and once again, all eyes were on Draco.

"Horcruxes," he blurted, his sense of bravado gone once again. _Merlin, what is happening to me?_ "I know about them. He has seven, I think. H- He doesn't talk about it but I've heard my… my father, I've heard him say things. I'll find out everything I can for you, if only you'll help me get my mother out of that house-"

"Seven," Harry was saying, "Yes, we suspected that bit already. What else?"

"I know that one is a locket that belonged to Salazar Slytherin. I know you can destroy them with Fiendfyre. And I suspect that my aunt has something to do with another."

"What else?"

"I don't… I don't know. Not about the Horcruxes."

"You said you had the names of some at the Ministry, didn't you?" Granger was prompting him.

"Yes… If I had some parchment-" He hadn't even finished talking before there was parchment, ink and quill on the table in front of him.

"My hands, Granger."

"Right," she said, flicking her wand. Draco curled his fists closed and then open again, stretching his fingers before picking up the quill. With all eyes on him, he started to write. It wasn't long before Harry, Hermione and Remus were huddled on their side of the table, talking in low voices. He tried to ignore the hushed voices of the three sharing the room with him, _knew_ they were discussing him, deciding his fate without even the decency to throw up a quick silencing charm. He focused on the scratching of his quill on the parchment as he wrote down name after name, betrayal after betrayal, sealing his own fate if he ever had the misfortune of being discovered as a traitor.

 _"…_ _can't just stay here, we don't know if he…"_

 _"…_ _get us more information, only we can't risk letting him know…"_

 _"…_ _legilimency, we could all be signing our own death warrants…"_

 _"…_ _know it's ridiculous but I trust him."_

Draco couldn't block out every snippet of conversation; Gryffindors are bloody loud. That last voice was Granger, he knew, sticking up for him again. He didn't like being indebted to her. He didn't like being indebted to _anyone_ , but with her it was worse because she had not a single reason to speak up for him and she did it anyway. The thought made him slightly queasy.

When he finished writing, Draco silently pushed the parchment across the table towards Harry and Lupin, who picked it up and scanned it quickly.

"There's a few on here we didn't know about." Lupin looked up at Draco. "We'll be looking into this, you know."

"I didn't _lie,_ " said Draco indignantly.

"For your sake I hope that's true. You're staying here, by the way. We can't risk you wandering freely now that you know where we are, you understand."

"I wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon, trust me. And I don't even know where we are."

"For now, it's best if no one else knows that you are here. Some of the other Order members may react less… _rationally_ than we did, especially with… everything being so fresh. Harry and Ron will show you to a room." Draco couldn't stop the snort before it escaped him. If _this_ was rational…

Ron's mouth dropped open for a moment, but he quickly closed it and snorted in disgust. "I won't have anything to do with him. Someone else can deal with you, _ferret."_ Harry was staring uncertainly from the kitchen back to the stairs, like he knew what he had to do but was searching for some sort of escape. It was only a few moments before Hermione huffed and grabbed Draco by the sleeve of his t-shirt, pulling him up from the chair.

" _I'll_ take him. Honestly, you two are such _prats_ I can't even _believe_ it sometimes." She shoved past the boys and started to drag Draco up the stairs, pulling him by his shirt. It was really starting to get _uncomfortable_ so he tugged it out of her grasp, rubbing the side of his arm where it had chafed at him. She clearly mistook the movement as something considerably ruder. Draco found himself cringing at the hurt look that flashed in her eyes.

"Granger, I wasn't-"

"It's fine. Really." They had arrived on a third story landing, facing three dark wood doors. "Yours will be the left, I hope that's okay." She pushed open the door with one hand and they both walked to the center of the room.

It was a small, plain bedroom. There was nothing _personal_ about it. That made Draco think it was a guest room, and _that_ was probably better. Worn hardwood floorboards stretched across the space and met molding at the walls, which were painted dark green. There was a narrow bed, a dresser, and a small writing desk and chair.

"I thought you'd like the green," Granger said, and Draco looked at her in alarm. That queasy feeling plunged back into his stomach with her words. He swallowed.

"Look, Granger- I wasn't trying to- I didn't pull away because you're a Mudblood-" She flinched and he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"I didn't mean that, either. All I'm trying to say is… He paused, staring at her. "Well… er… I'm, uh…"

 _I'm sorry I called you Mudblood for six years. I never knew how awful it was and you're the first muggle-born I ever met and all I ever wanted was to impress my father and I thought joining them would do it but he still despises me and now I realize they were WRONG, and-_

She raised her eyebrows at him. "And?"

He stood, his mouth opening and closing dumbly, and she laughed.

"It's alright, Malfoy, I get it. You've shared enough feelings tonight to last the rest of your life. Don't hurt yourself."

"Draco," he mumbled at her, just as she turned to walk out of the bedroom.

"What?"

"You can call me Draco. It's my name, you know."

"Oh. Alright. Goodnight then, Draco."

"Goodnight, Granger."

He watched her walk out of the room and start to shut the door behind her. Just before she did, he saw a flash of curly hair as she stuck her head back in through the crack.

This time, he raised the eyebrow at her. "Yes?" he asked.

"Hermione," she said with a timid grin. "It's my name, you know." Before he could respond, the door was closed and she was gone. He sat down on his tiny bed, head in hands, and found himself wondering if she had ever truly been there.


	2. Chapter 2

NOTE: Thanks, waterflower20, for being my first review! Don't worry, we'll get more detail on the defection conversation later :) This chapter is slightly shorter than the last but I felt it was a good stopping point. Read on!

CHAPTER 2

The next morning rose cool and clear. Hermione found herself sitting across the kitchen table once again, this time with only Harry across from her. She was shocked at the company; Hermione was typically the only early riser in the group, but the night before appeared to have had no small effect on Harry. She suspected he hadn't slept at all. The pair had been sitting quietly for quite some time, fiddling with breakfast and watching the dawn slowly spread dappled golden light across the kitchen, when the silence was finally broken.

"We're well and truly fucked now, aren't we?" Harry had been staring at the piece of toast on his plate for so long it had become a soggy mess of butter and marmalade.

"We're no more _fucked_ than we were two days ago, Harry." Hermione didn't have any trouble tucking into her own breakfast. She fixed Harry with a level glare across the table. "Just because he decided to defect doesn't mean we're fucked. In fact, his defecting is probably a _good_ thing for us, don't you think?"

"You're mad," Harry said, shaking his head. "How can you trust him? How can you _want_ to trust him?"

"I just do."

"Why did he turn to you for help anyway? You should have been the last person on earth to help him after- after everything."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I suspect it has to do with my _bleeding heart_ and penchant for fixing broken things."

Harry just shook his head again and looked at her through tired eyes. She sighed.

"Look, Malfoy may have been a git when we were kids, but look at his _father._ It's no wonder, really."

"Dumbledore-"

"You heard what he said to Dumbledore yourself. It can't have been easy having Voldemort living in his own _house._ He was going to kill his mother. Don't look at me like that, she may not be a… _pleasant_ woman, but she is his _mother._ Would you kill for your family, Harry?"

"I would die for them or for you or for Ron a hundred bloody times over if that's what it took, but I am not a _MURDERER_ , HERMIONE." Harry raised his voice, his knuckles turning white around the butter knife still in his hand. She didn't even flinch.

"No, you're not. And neither is Draco."

Harry sighed in resignation and set down the knife. Hermione reached across the table and took his hand, her expression softening.

"I know what you're thinking. I really do. But this is war, Harry. We can't afford to let schoolyard prejudices keep us from thinking rationally. This is what we're fighting for, isn't it? We want people to join our side, to see the Light."

"He's marked. He's a Death Eater no matter what. Look at Snape," said Harry stubbornly.

"If Voldemort held you down and marked your arm, would that make you a Death Eater?"

Harry snorted. "Is that what he told you?"

"No. He's hardly told me much of anything regarding… that. My point still stands."

"Why are you defending him?"

At that, Hermione paused. A few long moments went by and she swirled the tea in her mug absently as she thought. She didn't know _precisely_ why she was trusting Malfoy- ( _Draco,_ she reminded herself)- but she knew that she had felt something when they had met the previous night, when he had confessed everything to her and begged for her help. It wasn't quite _pity_ , although that was probably part of it. It was more like… recognition. Empathy. The fierce, desperate look in his hard silver eyes had reminded her so much of the powerful love that had led her to obliviate her own parents; it had struck her to the very core. _He is human too,_ she had realized, _and he is hurting just as much as we all are._

When at last she raised her eyes to meet Harry's, her expression was unreadable. All the same, he knew she was speaking in earnest.

"I don't know why. I just… I believe him. The way he looked, when he was talking about his mother… he's just like us, Harry, really. He's a-" she hesitated, "-a victim of unfortunate circumstance."

Harry exhaled. "Fine. I still don't like him. I still don't trust him. But you do."

"But I do." She nodded and went back to her tea.

"Well, I trust _you._ So here we are, then. Ron isn't going to come around so quickly, you know."

She shrugged. "He'll have to. It's like I said, isn't it? We can't let schoolyard prejudice get in the way of what needs to be done."

"What are we going to do with him, though?" Harry asked.

"I think we should probably have this conversation with Ron, Remus and the "him" in question present. But I do think we should get his mother out of there."

"I suppose you're right."

Hermione stood and stretched briefly before clearing her breakfast dishes with a quick wave of her wand. She started piling pieces of buttered toast and bacon onto a fresh plate and pouring a new mug of tea. "Thank you for being reasonable, Harry," she said, scooping the dishes up and moving towards the stairs.

"Uh… right. Yeah. What are you doing?" Harry was staring at her.

"No other Order members are supposed to know Draco is here, remember? He can't starve up there. Honestly." She scoffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Let me know when the others are up. We should probably discuss what we're going to do sooner rather than later." And then she was gone. Harry just stared at the hallway, listening to her retreating footsteps. He laid his forehead on the cool wood of the table, kept listening. He heard a soft knock, followed by the quick opening and closing of a door. Then silence.

* * *

Hermione smiled softly as she made her way up the narrow stairs with breakfast dishes in tow. She had _known_ Harry would come around more quickly than Ron, and she was pleased with herself for getting him to see reason, even if it was completely hinged on his trust in her. But even as she arrived in front of Draco's dark wood bedroom door, she felt the victorious smile slipping away along with her confidence. _He still hates you, Hermione,_ she reminded herself as she knocked softly on the door. _Hates all of us._ _He's just doing what needs to be done. Like we all are. But then why did he…_

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door opened quietly, and Hermione found herself face to face with Draco Malfoy for their third meeting in two days. She tried not to look as uncomfortable as she felt.

"I brought you some food," she said, raising the mug of tea slightly. "Mind if I come in?"

He didn't answer, only opened the door a little wider and stepped aside as she entered. She busied herself with arranging the things she had brought on the desk, rambling all the while.

"I brought toast and a little marmalade, I don't know if you like it but I do so I thought it'd be better than just plain. Oh, and bacon, and the eggs have been out for a while now but they're still good you know, I made them myself. There's sugar here too, for the tea, I'm not sure how you take it but I like mine with just a little-"

"Thank you," he interrupted her, stepping forward and taking the mug of tea from her hand. He looked like he was going to say something else, but stopped himself and sat down in the small desk chair. Hermione smiled weakly and plopped herself down on top of his rumpled comforter.

"I hope you slept well," she tried again. He only looked at her from the corner of his eye, mouth full of bacon, and she snorted at the ridiculousness of the situation. _I just brought Draco Malfoy food in his bedroom, in an Order safehouse, and he is now shooting me irritated glances over breakfast while I lay in his… shit, while I lay in his bed._ She was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the way the blankets under her smelled of his light cologne and she sat up with a grimace.

Draco swallowed his mouthful of bacon, then groaned and set his mug down. "Look, I've already thanked you for vouching for me and for keeping those idiots from killing me, which was painful enough as it is. You don't have to sit up here and force yourself to be nice to me, Granger. I get it, really."

"What?" She was actually taken by surprise.

"You heard me. You're clearly terrified. It's all over your face."

"You think _I'm_ terrified of _you?_ " She laughed.

"Clearly," he said again, even as he spooned more marmalade onto the toast. "You keep doing that nervous babbling thing and you flinched when I looked at you."

"I do not _babble._ "

"Okay, Granger."

"Hermione."

He sighed. "Didn't I just say you don't have to pretend to be my friend?"

"I'm not… wait, we aren't friends," she blurted. She immediately felt bad when he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

"I'm very aware," was all he said.

"I didn't mean it like that, _Draco,_ " she said, making a point to say his first name.

"We both know if I had never owled you and then showed up begging on my knees for help, you never would have talked to me. You hated me in school. I hated you."

"Well, you did call me Mudblood on a near daily basis."

"I remember."

"Also, isn't it obvious we never would have talked had you not owled me? It isn't like I go around having tea with Death Eaters-" Draco clenched his fists, and she quickly finished "-which you _aren't_. Thus, us talking."

He took another sip of his tea and looked at her levelly. Hermione found herself squirming slightly under his gaze.

"Do you think we could have been friends?" She asked, wanting to break the awful silence. "If none of this had happened, I mean. If I wasn't a… if I wasn't muggle-born."

"If I hadn't grown up surrounded by prejudiced arseholes, you mean?"

She nodded.

"I still am a bit of a prejudiced arsehole. Slytherin side-effect, I think."

"But you don't think I'm filth anymore?"

"No. I don't."

"I always thought you were brilliant, you know," she told him. He looked skeptical at that, but it was true. Hermione had rarely had close competition for her place at the top of their year when they were still at Hogwarts, but Draco was one of the few who gave her a run for her money. It had actually infuriated her. Until sixth year, of course, when he had been too distracted for schoolwork.

"Well," she continued when he didn't answer, " _I_ think we could have been friends. Why don't we start now? We're going to be working together, anyway. Like cause and all that."

"Don't push your luck."

"What! You're the one who was sulking, telling me I shouldn't pretend to be your friend. And now I'm not pretending!"

"I was not _sulking._ " He tossed a bit of toast in her direction as if to prove his point, and she laughed when it bounced off her forehead.

"See? You're throwing food at me. We're already off to a good start." He actually grinned at that, and she found herself thinking about how handsome he looked when he didn't have a permanent sneer etched onto his face.

"Let's at least try to be friends?" She stuck her hand out for him to shake.

"Let's try to be friends," he agreed. He brought the tips of her fingers to his lips and kissed them lightly.

"Who knew Draco Malfoy could be so gallant?" She laughed nervously.

"Pureblood," he shrugged, turning back to his breakfast.

The next few minutes were spent in strangely comfortable silence. Hermione leaned back against the bed again and let her eyes glaze over, reflecting on the utter absurdity of the last few days. Draco pushed his chair back and sat with his feet on the desk next to his discarded breakfast plate, his head tilted back over the back of the chair. He idly fiddled with the tea bag hanging over the side of his mug, considering. His thoughts had barely turned to his mother when they were interrupted by another knock on the bedroom door. Hermione leapt up to answer it- it was Harry Potter.

"Hermione," he said with a smile, and then looked past her to make eye contact with Draco. "Er, Malfoy." Harry nodded somewhat stiffly and Draco rolled his eyes. When Hermione scoffed, Harry continued, "Remus said we could meet in his room. It's still early, but you were right. We should discuss this soon."


	3. Chapter 3

NOTE: I made some pretty extensive edits to this chapter, removing a whole section and adding another. I'd recommend rereading it!

CHAPTER 3

Hermione swallowed and stood, exiting the room without looking at Draco. He followed her silently, down one, two, three sets of stairs. Remus's room was, as it turned out, a basement-turned-bedroom. Draco had to duck his head to enter the low-ceilinged room, and he stood uncertainly in the doorway as the others entered, taking in his surroundings. The stone walls were lined with low bookcases and blocked in by boxes and other assorted furniture: all pushed aside to clear the space in the center of the room. A small, makeshift mattress lay directly on the floor, and five uncomfortable looking wooden chairs sat in a haphazard circle beside it. Remus himself was already seated in one of them with his ankle crossed neatly atop his knee, looking eerily calm.

"Ron?" he asked, even as he scrubbed his hands over his face, knowing the answer to his own unfinished question.

Harry sighed. "I'll get him," and thumped back up the stairs past Draco, leaving him alone with Hermione and Remus. She brushed past him to perch on one of the chairs with her sweater pulled over her knees. Draco stayed standing, eyeing the two of them.

"My mother," he began uncertainly. "I want… I need to get her somewhere safe."

Remus glanced towards the basement door as if he was waiting for Harry and Ron. When several moments passed and the door remained firmly shut, he sighed and placed his foot back to the floor.

"We aren't going to leave her there," he said, soft green eyes searching Draco's face. "We'll help you, Mr. Malfoy. But that requires your complete cooperation in return. Our position is quite… precarious, you see."

 _He isn't wasting any time in getting right down to it,_ Draco thought, even as the man continued.

"You have the potential to be quite valuable to the Order, assuming you turn out to be trustworthy."

Draco felt anger flare up in his chest. "I'm-" he started, but he barely got the word out before Remus interrupted.

"Hermione has chosen to put her trust in you. I trust her implicitly, or I assure you this situation would have gone quite differently. That said, I refuse to put the entire Order at risk for the sake of one, especially with the… circumstances surrounding you." In sharp contrast to the previous night, Hermione had yet to say a word. She was letting Remus do all the talking, and Draco found himself vaguely annoyed with her silence. He shot her a glare, but she seemed not to notice. _What happened to vouching for me?_

"You can _trust me_ ," he bit out. "I'll make a bloody Unbreakable Vow if that's what you need. I've seen what that man can do. What he _will_ do. I'm quite a fan of Potter offing him at this point."

At the mention of an Unbreakable Vow, Remus leaned forward with interest. "You'd make a Vow?"

"I _just_ said I would, didn't I?" Draco snapped. His patience with being treated like some sort of ticking time bomb of betrayal was wearing thin. Remus didn't seem perturbed by the biting tone, but Hermione winced.

"Right then," Remus said, "Before we leave this room today, you'll make a Vow. You'll swear not to betray the Order and you'll swear to protect our secrets with your life."

Draco nodded readily, but Hermione squeaked. "An _Unbreakable Vow,_ Remus? If he breaks it he'll die!"

Remus snorted. "Right, that's why it's Unbreakable. As long as he doesn't betray us he'll be fine. I thought you trusted him?"

She looked pale. She opened her mouth as if to protest further, but they were suddenly distracted by a muffled crash from upstairs.

"Bloody-" Remus leapt to his feet, wand out. Hermione had already reached the door, but she stopped with one hand on the doorknob when the shouting began. The words were unclear, but full of curse words and clearly Ron's voice. There was another crash, and this time the sound of shattering glass exploded directly against the basement door. Draco snorted. Hermione looked murderous as she stepped away from the door. No one said a word, even as the shouting died down and ended abruptly with the unmistakable thud of a slammed door. Soon after, Harry slipped back into the room with an apologetic look on his face.

"Ron's decided to sit this one out," he explained, flicking his wand to clear the stairs of broken glass.

"That's one way to say it." Hermione didn't look surprised, but her expression was uncharacteristically disgruntled.

"Don't let him worry you, Hermione." Harry sat in the chair beside her and settled a soothing arm across the back of her chair, and Draco felt a twinge of the same queasy feeling from the night before when she leaned gratefully against his shoulder.

"Right, so," Remus began, leaning back in his chair and shaking Draco of his uncomfortable thoughts. "You'll take the Vow. That makes things a lot easier."

"Vow? An Unbreakable Vow?" Harry looked bewildered.

"It was Draco's idea. Honestly, I find it much easier to trust that his intentions are genuine if he is willing to stake his life against it."

Hermione sniffed. "I still feel that it shouldn't be necessary-" at the looks of the three men, she quickly finished "-but if Draco is okay with this, I suppose it's none of my concern."

"How's your Occlumency, Draco?" Remus was giving him that searching gaze again.

"Obviously adequate, or I wouldn't be here." He ignored Hermione's questioning glance and Harry's glare.

"And your mother's?"

"She can hold her own."

"Things will certainly be easier if you can let her in on the plan." He looked thoughtful. "Do you think you'll be able to stay in his good graces once we remove your mother, or will he accuse you of freeing her?"

Draco paled. "I- I don't think he'd kill me, but… She's his leverage over me, and he realizes it. I think he'd suspect me. I'm not entirely certain. He'd torture me. As soon as she's safe I'd prefer to go into hiding."

"So you won't be able to get any more information once she's free. We'll have to try to find out as much as possible before we get her," Harry was speaking now. "He'll be expecting you to report back on us eventually, right? We'll have to make up something you can tell him, some sort of dirt on us. Make it verifiable so he trusts you."

"And then I find out everything I can about the Horcruxes?"

Harry nodded. "And then we get Narcissa."

"Where is she?"

"In the Manor. She's confined to the top floor. I can break the wards, I think, but he'll know the moment I do. We won't be able to Apparate."

"A Portkey, then."

"Portkeys," Remus spoke up again. "We'll want to send her to a separate house."

"What? Why the bloody hell would we do that?" Draco's eyes flashed.

"Remus is right, Draco," Hermione said. "It's for her own safety."

"And ours," Harry said under his breath. Draco whirled towards him.

"Excuse me, Potter? We've already established that I'm fucking trustworthy, alright? I'm taking a goddamn Unbreakable fucking Vow. I am not pulling my mother out of there to stick her in some godforsaken strange house, alone with you lot-"

"So you'd rather leave her there, keeping house for Voldemort?" Harry snapped.

"I'd rather be with her, is what I'd rather. I'm going to be risking my own neck to get information for the precious Order, going to be hiding away like a miserable coward while this fucking war goes on around me, and the least I can expect in return is to be allowed to stay with the only fucking family I have left. I won't let you separate us."

Hermione was looking at him with pity in her eyes. "Draco, I know how you feel, I do. You must be so lost without your family and we will do our best to-"

Draco felt the rage building white-hot in his chest. He had spent two godforsaken days now, wallowing in humility, allowing the Order to insult him and patronize him and provoke him to taking a fucking Unbreakable Vow. He took a slow step towards Hermione and sneered into her face, cutting her off before she could finish her pity spiel.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Granger, you were raised by Muggles after all-"

"Oh, so I'm filth again now, is that what I am?" It took seconds for the pity to leave her eyes, replaced with anger. She leapt to her feet, her skin practically sparking with energy and quickly building fury.

"You're a _fucking bitch_ is what you are! Your parents are GONE; you don't understand that I would do _anything_ to make sure my mother survives this hell of a war. Including associating with you."

There was a long moment of furious silence then, and they stood glaring at each other. Draco felt a whisper of guilt flicker up from his stomach when angry tears started to spill from the corners of her dark eyes. He reached one hand hesitantly towards her, already forming an apology, but before he could touch her she drew her arm back and slapped the side of his face so hard his vision went blurry.

"You have _no idea_ what I will do for the people I love, Draco Malfoy." Her voice was low and venomous now, and she spat his name out like it was poison. "I thought for a moment- I thought-" now she looked like she was going to choke. "You're lucky I have even a shred of honor in me, you miserable fucking arsehole. When there's a plan I will help you save your mother, but I am done here. Don't ever speak to me. Ever."

Draco had never heard such vicious words of her mouth, and that included six years of open hostility between them. "Hermione-" he started, but she was already gone, up the stairs, the basement door shaking from the force with which she'd slammed it behind her.

He stood, chest heaving, in the center of the room, Remus and Potter on either side of him.

"Right," Remus said softly. Without another word he exited the room. _Probably going after Hermione,_ Draco thought miserably. He barely had time to mentally abuse himself before Potter started in.

"After everything she did for you, you still don't see it, do you? She's still just a dirty Mudblood to you. You're disgusting."

"Her… what?" Draco was taken off guard. "This is nothing to do with her blood."

Harry laughed, but there was no humor in it. "It's not, is it? So you just think she's worthless on her own then?" He didn't leave Draco any time to protest before he continued. "She's my fucking sister, okay? As good as. She spent all morning trying to convince me that you'd changed, that you're alright. And you repay that by treating her like… like rubbish." He looked so angry he couldn't think of words to convey how he felt. "She will do _anything_ for people she cares about… she's right, you have no idea. Do you know what happened to her parents? Why they're gone?" He had stepped closer and closer into Draco's personal space, and he found himself stepping back. He swallowed.

"She Obliviated them. They're off in Australia somewhere with no idea they ever had a daughter. No idea she exists. _Gone,_ as you so wonderfully reminded her. She did it to protect them from _your side,_ and she's cried every bloody night since."

Draco felt like his lungs were closing in on themselves. "I- I didn't-"

"Save it, Malfoy. I don't want to hear it." He stepped back. "Ron was right. Look, leave Hermione alone. If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I'll kill you. She's the one with the 'bleeding heart,' as she says. I've got much less of a conscience." And with that, Harry Potter turned on his heel and stormed out of the basement, leaving Draco alone with his fear and self-loathing.

* * *

Hermione was furious with Draco- blindingly, incomprehensibly angry. After their fight in the basement, she hadn't spoken to him. She just _knew_ that she wouldn't even be able to look at him without dissolving into tears of righteous anger, so she decided to avoid him. It had been a whole two hours, and Harry and Remus said nothing of her attitude change towards him, so she left the two of them to their own devices. She sat alone in her room, shredding bits of parchment and stewing in her own dark mood.

 _After everything I did for that prat, and all I get is 'Of course I'll associate with you, if it suits me. If I have to. Mudblood.'_ She tossed one of the scraps into the bin below her desk and frowned. _He didn't actually say Mudblood. Maybe- but… well, he had a go at me over my parents._ Her frown deepened when she realized she was trying to convince herself. Of course he had been angry over the thought of being separated from his mother… She was, after all, nearly the entire reason he was there in the first place. The loss of her own parents was something she didn't like to think about. It was _necessary_. A necessary evil, if you were asking her. Her family wasn't safe if they had even the slightest inkling that a wizarding world existed, much less that there was a war going on. So she did what had to be done. And Draco clearly didn't _understand_ that, and he clearly didn't _understand_ the concept of doing _anything at all_ or he wouldn't have protested so violently and called her those names. _Right?_

* * *

The second Draco stepped back into his tiny guest room with the green walls, he started setting things on fire. First the napkins still sitting atop the desk from his breakfast with Hermione, then the bits of paper in the bin just below it. The flimsy scrap of napkin was quickly incinerated, leaving a dark burn across the wood surface and a coil of black smoke in its wake.

 _"WHAT THE BLOODY FUCKING HELL, GRANGER,"_ he shouted out loud. His anger had actually almost entirely dissipated already, but he was hurt and confused and he wasn't about to admit it without a struggle, so he'd reverted to yelling and destroying things. It wouldn't last long- it never did.

He shot a halfhearted jet of flame in the direction of his chair, but it bounced off the wooden back with a shower of harmless sparks and he threw himself down into it, choking back a sob. The thought of his mother hidden away in some obscure safehouse out of his reach and knowledge hardly made him feel any safer than knowing she was with Voldemort. The memory of Granger- _Hermione-_ looking at him with unmasked fury in her eyes and telling him to never speak to her again had stripped away nearly all of the good feelings their surprisingly pleasant breakfast had wrought. _But after what I said to her, of course she'd assume it was a blood thing. I didn't know about her sodding parents._ He wasn't sure why the prospect of her now-eternal hatred worried him more than thoughts of spying on the Dark Lord.

 _Why does every bloody thing I do have to end in some sick sort of betrayal?_

* * *

Twenty-four hours had entirely dissolved the last of Hermione's burning anger- but she was still avoiding Malfoy. The thoughts that had begun to poke their way into her brain while she'd sprawled upside down over the edge of her bed, _trying not to think,_ were alarming at best, and she had decided (after not very much thought at all) that nipping their strange pseudo-friendship in the bud was the best course of action.

She'd started to sympathize with him. She had before, of course, or she never would have agreed to help in the first place. But as she'd lain there, twirling her wand in her fingers and staring at the floorboards above her, she'd begun to regret shouting at him. The thoughts of her own Obliviated parents had plagued her along with bubbling guilt over not being more understanding down in the basement. _I should have stayed calm and explained why we thought the separate safehouses would be the safest option…_ _Of course he didn't understand, we've not told him a single thing about how we operate here, of course…_

The feelings of guilt were quickly followed by thoughts of his light laughter and the way his lips curved around the rim of his mug when he drank tea; and _those_ thoughts were followed by the aforementioned sense of alarm and hasty decision to continue avoiding him. _I told the man to never speak to me again. He probably despises me even more than before._

* * *

Six days. Six days had passed since the meeting in the basement, and she still hadn't spoken to him. They'd passed each other in the house, of course. She'd nod politely at him when she saw him, usually seated at the table _working_ , but she didn't make any more visits to his bedroom. She certainly didn't bring him breakfast again, or even tea. Six bloody days of planning and revising and more planning with Remus and occasionally Harry fucking Potter. It was unsurprising that Draco found himself barely able to focus. A lot was certainly at stake, but with Potty and Professor werewolf as the only people on the planet who deigned to acknowledge his existence, life with the Order began to look quite dull. In some odd sense he felt like the world was only righting itself, that the universe must have been flipped temporarily upside down in order for Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy to have entertained fantasies of friendship. There had, of course, been only barely two days where she hadn't seemed disgusted by him. And now there had been six where things had gone right back to normal. Only "normal" didn't feel normal anymore. In fact, it was worse than normal- before, they would have argued. She would have insulted him, called him a ferret, and he would have called her Mudblood. _But not now. That's what started this in the fucking first place._ _Of course I had to go and fuck it up,_ he thought bitterly. He had initially been surprised by Potter's willingness to cooperate, actually. Their argument in the basement had of course ended with Harry threatening to kill him for speaking to Hermione. He pondered it for the first two days of silence from Granger before it struck him that her distance from Draco was probably a factor in Potter's forgiveness. That and the fact that his desire for Horcrux knowledge was greater than the annoyance he felt from Malfoy. Weasley still wasn't speaking to him, of course, but there was no loss there.

Their plotting began as little more than a series of scribbles on parchment, but it evolved relatively quickly. As quickly as it could, at any rate- it was unsurprisingly difficult to form any type of plan when they had next to no idea what they were even looking for. It was clear that once Narcissa was removed from Voldemort's control, Draco would no longer be trusted. Harry suggested using the Draught of Living Death to have her appear dead and remove the body from the manor, but Draco was too concerned about managing to remove her afterwards. The potion was delegated to Plan B. Plan A, as it turned out, was relatively simple: Deliver an innocuous Portkey to his mother in the form of a bit of jewelry, so that she would always be touching it. Inform her of his plan to rescue her, and then spend his time acquiring as much Horcrux-related information as possible. Be ready to stage the rescue at a moment's notice. _Easy enough._

It was on the evening of that sixth day that all of their scheming was forced into motion. Draco was sitting in the warded kitchen, going over the plans with Remus and Potter yet another time- _"It's four sentences worth of a plan, Potter, how many times can we possibly review four bloody sentences?"-_ when his Mark began to burn.

He gripped his left forearm with a sharp intake of breath, knocking the spoon from his mug in the process. As the spoon clattered to the floor, two pairs of eyes flew to meet his in alarm. He stared, wide-eyed, back at them, before he spoke.

"I'm going to need to go now," he ground out through gritted teeth. _Of fucking course this would happen right now. Of course._

Harry nodded, but Remus gave him a look that was vaguely reassuring.

"Keep the story straight, Draco. Guard your mind. It is imperative that he believes Harry is still living with his aunt and uncle." As he spoke, he hastily scribbled something on a scrap of parchment and thrust it in Draco's direction. He picked it up with his right hand and read the listed address with a frown.

"Where-" he began, but Remus answered for him. "When you're safe, Apparate back here." With a flick of his wand, the address went up in flame.

Draco's eyes widened slightly. "You trust me?"

The werewolf laughed. "You made an Unbreakable Vow."

He nodded, hesitantly. "I'll learn everything I can. Tell… make sure Hermione knows." And then he turned on his heel and Disapparated, leaving Remus and Harry sitting alone in the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE** : So sorry this chapter was so long in coming. I've made some edits to all three previous chapters, but the most extensive changes were made to Chapter 3. I added about 1000 words to the middle of it and moved the entire last section to the beginning of this chapter (so you guys will recognize the beginning of this chapter at first.) I'd recommend rereading Chapter 3 :) ALSO: If anyone is interested in beta-ing this, please let me know! Thank you guys so much for reading.

CHAPTER 4

Malfoy Manor hadn't changed at all in Draco's brief absence. The Dark Lord's summons had landed him in a rarely used upper floor sitting room. The parlor was tastefully decorated in light pinks, greens, and gold, and Draco felt bile rise in his throat at the sight of Voldemort lounging casually in one of his mother's white leather chairs. It smelled like death. He barely managed to hide his reaction and his alarm at being summoned alone, and strode forward with a show of confidence to kneel at his feet.

"My Lord," he murmured, kissing the hem of his robes and focusing on Occluding his mind with every ounce of magical energy in his body. He felt a cold hand reach out to stroke his cheek in what Voldemort probably considered a _fatherly_ way, and swallowed nervously. _I am not nervous. I know what I'm here for. I will not die today. I will get to my mother._

"Rise, Draco, my boy." That hand moved down the side of his face, and one clawed finger reached under his chin and tipped his face up. He found himself looking straight into Voldemort's face, stormy grey eyes meeting watery red ones. "I trust you have returned to me with good news?"

Draco stayed on his knees. "Yes, my Lord. I believe you will be pleased."

"You have succeeded in infiltrating the Order?"

"Yes, my Lord," he said again. "They believe I have defected to their side. I spent the last week in their safe house with Weasley and the Mudblood Granger."

Voldemort laughed, and it took nearly all of Draco's concentration not to shudder at the sound. He did indeed sound pleased. "Their headquarters? You must lead me to them. To Potter."

"They are still wary of me, my Lord. They have yet to inform me of the safe house's location." At that, he felt the push of Legilimency against his mind. He willed his memories of his first night at the safehouse to the front of his mind, of Weasley shouting at him and of Lupin refusing to let him leave. For good measure he added in the one of Hermione slapping him across the face. He savored a silent wash of relief when the presence left him and he heard the sound of cold laughter again.

"You allowed the Mudblood to strike you? Oh, Draco."

Draco forced himself to smirk cockily up at him. "I trust I'll have my revenge soon, my Lord. You know I refuse to let such insolence go unpunished."

"Of course, my boy. And what of Potter?"

"Potter will remain at his Muggle relative's residence until the twenty-seventh. They plan to move him then. To a separate safe house, I expect." He swallowed, still holding up those walls in his mind, watching as Voldemort studied his face coolly.

"The twenty-seventh," he said thoughtfully. "Severus informed me that the boy would not be moved until the thirtieth. The night before his birthday."

"It is a false trail, my Lord. Now that they are aware of Severus's true loyalty, they will not risk betrayal a second time."

"And yet here you are, Draco." He smiled widely, revealing razor sharp teeth.

Draco forced himself to return the gesture. "And yet here I am."

For the third time that night, Voldemort let out a burst of cold laughter. "Very good, very good, Draco. Narcissa's future is looking brighter every day."

At the casual mention of his mother's situation, Draco fought himself for composure. "May I go to her, my Lord?"

Voldemort stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Very well. I believe a reward is in order, for now. Don't keep your Order friends waiting too long, Draco. I know you will not disappoint me."

Draco watched as the Dark Lord stood and strode out of the room without a backwards glance. He felt himself sink from his knees all the way to the floor and leaned against the leg of the chair that Voldemort had sat in not three minutes prior, shaking. Their entire exchange couldn't have lasted more than fifteen minutes, but he felt emotionally and magically drained. _Severus did this for years,_ he thought. _No small wonder he cracked._ He grimaced and forced himself into more of a sitting position, pulled his wand from his sleeve. _I won't crack. I can't. My mother is here. I need to get her out of here._

* * *

Narcissa was seated primly in a single cushioned chair, facing a tall window that overlooked the Malfoy rose garden. Draco stopped in the doorway to study her small form, watching as she leaned towards the slightly misty glass with a wistful look on her face. She toyed with the handle of the teacup in her lap, clinking it softly against the saucer. She was dressed impeccably as always, but there was a thick shawl draped across her shoulders and chest to combat the chill of the drafty upper floor.

"Mother," Draco said softly. She turned to face him with a start, but her expression relaxed when she recognized him.

"Oh, Draco," she said, setting her teacup on the windowsill. It was barely out of her grasp before he descended on her, wrapping her in his arms and burying his face in the warm fabric at her shoulder.

"Mother, I am so sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

"You don't owe me an apology," she soothed, her hand rubbing circles on his back. He felt a sudden childish urge to crawl atop her lap, but instead he pulled away to look at her. Up close, her icy blue eyes were swollen and rimmed with red. Draco frowned. He aimed his wand at the door, murmuring spells to add his own wards and silencing charms. When he was finished he felt only vaguely more secure, but he stepped back all the same. A few silent moments passed as Draco felt behind him and settled himself against the narrow windowsill. He focused intently on the shallow grooves separating each polished wood floorboard from another, studying the grain and counting each dip. He had questions for her, but he was desperately afraid of the answers.

"Are you being treated well?" He finally asked, still staring at the floor. It was several long moments of silence before his mother answered him.

"My days here at the manor are wonderful, Draco. I am fortunate to have the protection of the Dark Lord here in my own home." Her voice wavered almost imperceptibly.

Draco frowned again. "Mother, it's only me. If there's anything you'd like to-"

He stopped when her cold hand darted out to grip his. Her head shook minutely back and forth and her cool eyes were wide, glancing from side to side rapidly.

"I am being treated wonderfully," she repeated, finally fixing her gaze on his face. Her voice was a little firmer this time. "I hope that your infiltration of the Order is going as planned." Draco swallowed. He could feel the tiny pearl ring in his pocket as though it was burning a hole in his thigh- the Portkey that he was meant to deliver to his mother _. Something is going on here, and I can't talk freely until I know what it is,_ he thought. He put his hands in his pockets and clutched it tightly in one hand, running his thumb around the band. _It's staying with me for now._

"Of course it is, Mother. They believe I am here gathering information for their own cause." He pushed the sinking feeling in his chest down and focused on gathering his own composure. "We both know where my true loyalties lie, of course," he finished smoothly. She answered with a tight-lipped smile.

"I know you won't disappoint me, my son," she said softly. He could see the sparkle of two tiny teardrops forming on her lower lashes, and couldn't stop himself from leaning forward to embrace her again. This time, he was the one doing the comforting.

"I love you, Mother," he said softly, stroking her pale hair. And then he added, in a breath so quiet he only hoped she would hear him, "I'm going to get you out of this place." He drew back and looked at her again, studying the way her face slipped from emotionless mask to full of fear, and trying to decipher what exactly it was that was causing Narcissa Malfoy to so clearly break. He didn't have to wait long for an answer. The curtain at the far end of the room rustled gently, and both Draco and his mother turned to stare as Lord Voldemort's snake emerged from the shadows.

The great beast swayed from side to side, slithering slowly along the polished wood as it circled the perimeter of the sitting room.

"Nagini," Draco breathed, swallowing his discomfort and pulling away from his mother again. She looked frazzled, on the verge of tears even as she settled back into her chair and picked up her teacup from the windowsill.

"The Dark Lord has been so generous to leave his companion here for my protection," she said quietly. She took a long sip of the now cold tea and closed her eyes as if the snake would disappear by force of will. Draco suppressed his shudder as the beast passed directly by them and the entire room seemed to plunge in temperature. _Something is bloody wrong with that thing,_ he thought. He worried his lower lip between his teeth and watched his mother scraping her teacup along the saucer, thinking to himself. _The snake isn't here to watch her,_ he realized. _It's here to watch me. And aside from the Parseltongue thing, I wouldn't be surprised if it has some kind of… curse…_ He stood abruptly, making Narcissa jump slightly.

"I've just remembered I have somewhere to be, Mother," he said with a smile that he kept cool through sheer force of will. "I'll come and visit you again soon, and I'll have more good news to share then." _Fucking Merlin I wish I didn't have to leave her in this shithole._

"Of course, Draco. I look forward to our next visit. I love you very much." She smiled wanly, and with a soft kiss to her knuckles, Draco swept from the room.

* * *

Hermione sat across the dingy table from Remus and Harry, picking nervously at the skin around her fingernails. Harry had knocked on her door only moments after Draco was called away, letting her know that he'd gone. A cryptic message had been sent to Ron via Patronus, but he had yet to arrive. Not that he was missing out on anything by remaining at his own home- the three Order members had made a pot of tea, but it was sitting untouched (and now cold) on the table between them. It had been well over two hours since Draco had left, and there was nothing for it but waiting.

"I've been thinking," Hermione finally said, breaking the silence with a slight clearing of her throat, "that maybe Draco is… well, maybe we could let him and his mother stay in the same safehouse."

Remus gave her a sad smile. "You know that isn't wise, Hermione."

She frowned back at him. "We're all together, aren't we? The Weasleys are all together, and-"

"Well, yeah. But none of us or the Weasleys are having regular chats with Voldemort, are they?" Harry pointed out. "We're not doing it because we hate him, although you can't deny he's been a prat-"

"But his mother has nothing to do with that," she cut him off. "From what Draco has said, she is literally being used as some sort of bargaining chip. She's a prisoner. She's all he has left. It _would_ be cruel to separate them, especially when he's doing so much for us."

"You were very much on our side when we discussed this last week," Remus reminded her. "You could have spoken up then. Even if you trust Draco- which I do, now, by the way- we have no idea what side Narcissa Malfoy is on."

"I _should_ have spoken up last week," Hermione said. "Part of trusting Draco is taking _all_ of his input into account, and if he says Narcissa will be on our side, I believe him." She paused and then continued softly, "If my parents were… I mean, if they had to hide out like this, I'd have wanted them to be close."

The looks of combined pity and understanding that both Remus and Harry gave her were nearly enough to bring back the angry tears. She averted her eyes, staring blankly into the corner of the room to avoid seeing either of their sympathetic expressions. Harry finally took mercy and changed the subject.

"Reckon he's alright over there?" He was tilting his chair onto its back legs and letting it drop as he spoke.

Hermione was indeed distracted by this new train of thought, but probably not in the way that Harry had intended. _Hell, Harry. That is not a pleasant subject change. What the fuck._ The reminder that Draco was off "having a chat with Voldemort," as Harry had so aptly put it, made her chest tighten uncomfortably. The fact that he'd been doing exactly that for over a year now was irrelevant. Because _now_ he was a spy, and so _now_ there was more at stake. _Also now he's my sort of friend and I find myself more concerned for his wellbeing than I have been in the past. Or… well, we would be sort of friends had I not cocked it up last week over an overblown misunderstanding._

She swallowed, but she had no time to vocalize her jumbled thoughts before they were all distracted by the unmistakable _crack_ of Apparition, muffled as it was, directly outside the door. All three Order members lurched to their feet and packed into the entryway, waiting anxiously for news. Hermione pressed her face against the aged wood to peer through a tiny silver-rimmed peephole; her heart leapt for a single moment before the shock of red hair registered in her mind and she realized it wasn't Draco.

 _"_ _Ron,"_ she said weakly, letting out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Ron." She opened the door for him, then turned and headed back to the kitchen, this time pacing the floor alongside the countertop.

"Some welcome," Ron quipped, looking bewildered. "Expecting someone else, are we?"

"We're expecting Malfoy. Sent you a Patronus," Harry said. Ron's expression immediately hardened.

"I came here because you said he was gone," he said darkly. "I thought we'd have an opportunity to talk strategy without the ferret around. What's been going on?"

 _"_ _Draco,"_ Hermione snapped. She looked murderous. "You'd know what's been going on, _Ronald_ , had you actually been here at all this week instead of ignoring us all just because of some childish-"

"Oi! You've been ignoring him, too! You told him to never speak to you again."

"Right, because I was angry, but once I'd got over that I realized- wait, you weren't even _there!"_

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but his tirade was cut short when Harry stepped in between them, looking half angry and half exasperated. "Can we all _stop this?!"_

There were a few beats of silence before Hermione stepped away from the counter and sank back into a kitchen chair, her expression defeated. "You're right," she said. Harry appeared shocked by her admission. "This past week has been incredibly stressful for all of us, but we can't let it go to our heads. We have _got_ to trust each other."

"But Malfoy-" Ron started. Remus was the one to interrupt, that time.

"-is one of us now," the werewolf finished for him. "Hermione is right. If we can't trust each other, we'll shatter. Draco is on our side now, so that extends to him as well." His expression turned slightly guilty. "He's been treated appallingly since he came to us, by myself included." At that, the silence extended to all four of them.

 _I was the only one to be decent to him in the beginning,_ Hermione thought, _and then I went and ruined that too-_ Once again, her thoughts were interrupted by a _crack_ outside the door. This time, she was in the hallway ahead of everyone else.

She pressed her eye to the peephole for the second time, and it only took a flash of silver hair for her to fling the door open and throw her arms around Draco's thin form. He stood there in the doorway, arms frozen at his sides, looking over the top of her head at the three men who had followed her into the doorway with a bewildered expression on his face.

"I was so worried," she said into the front of his robes. At that, he relaxed slightly and wound one arm tentatively around her back.

"If I'd known all I had to do to earn your forgiveness was nearly die, I'd have done it six days ago," he quipped.

Hermione stiffened and stepped back to examine his face, horrified. "You nearly died? What happened? Is everything okay?"

Draco's slightly bemused expression fell into a dark grimace. "No," he said, "it isn't." He pulled the door closed behind him and stared levelly at all four of the people crammed into the narrow entryway.

"I couldn't give my mother the Portkey. The snake is guarding her."

Ron raised his eyebrows and began to speak in a condescending tone, "You couldn't give her a Portkey because there was a _snake_ in the room? Are you really some kind of-"

" _Ronald,_ " Hermione started warningly.

Neither of them had time to finish their thoughts before Draco snapped at him. "The Dark Lord is a Parselmouth, you bloody git. And… and I think the snake is a Horcrux."


	5. Chapter 5

NOTE: Chapter 5 :) Bit of a short chapter here, just setting the scene. Our lovebirds are speaking again! Some of you have complained that they are warming up to each other too fast- sorry. If you're looking for a super slow burn story, there are plenty of them out there! I'm not having them rush into anything, but I'm also not about having them hate each other for like 50k words. Thanks for reading, loves!

CHAPTER 5

"The _what?"_ Harry was hovering in the middle of the hallway, a disconcertingly blank expression on his face.

"I think that the snake is a Horcrux," Draco repeated. He looked annoyed at having to repeat himself. Ron and Remus were both looking between Draco and Harry as if waiting for someone to bring them into the loop, but the wheels had already started spinning in Hermione's head.

"His snake… as a Horcrux," she said, more to herself than to anyone else. "It'd be terribly irresponsible… unconventional as well, not that I've studied enough cases to know for certain, but a living vessel would be so _volatile-_ "

"Why do you think it's a Horcrux?" Ron spoke up, cutting off her musings. "It isn't as if you've got some sort of dark soul magic detector or-"

"You'd have thought it too if you were there, Weasley. There's something wrong with that thing. At first I thought it was some kind of curse but I shudder to even go near it… and to think my mother is _still_ locked up with it..."

"Sure you're not just afraid of snakes?" Ron asked snarkily.

"I've watched the beast eat a human being on my bloody dining room table. Of course I'm fucking scared of it. Something is _different_ about it, now."

Ron's eyebrows shot up into his hair at that, but Remus only looked concerned. "Different? But that would mean… do you think it's a recent Horcrux? That's… that could be a good or bad thing, depending on how we look at it…"

Harry looked incredulous. "More Horcruxes are never a good thing," he insisted. Hermione, however, was nodding her head.

"Bad because more Horcruxes are horrid, of course, and because this could complicate things… Good because if he's arrogant enough to use his own familiar as a Horcrux, he must be done."

"Done?"

She nodded again. "He's certain the others are safe. The snake must be the sixth."

Draco paled. "Every time I hear… I mean, _six Horcruxes-"_

Harry tightened his lips in a grim smile. "Seven is the most magically powerful number," he quoted bitterly. "I'm sure I was meant to be the sixth death, wasn't I. He was right pissed when that little plan got foiled by my mum." Hermione looked as if she wanted to comfort him, but thought better of it and closed her lips in a frown.

"So…we'll just have Malfoy kill it when he rescues his mum," Ron said. "Two in one, right?"

At that, everyone exchanged uncertain glances.

"I don't think we can," Hermione sighed. "Tea?" She turned without waiting for an answer and went back to the kitchen, where she busied herself dumping the cold pot of tea down the drain and starting another.

Remus and Harry settled themselves into chairs at the table, and Ron seated himself on the corner of the tabletop, tossing his wand from one hand to the other. Draco remained standing with his hands folded on the back of a chair in front of him.

"Does the Dark Lord know when a Horcrux is destroyed?" His pale brows were furrowed and his lips tightened in thought.

"I don't think so," Harry said, shaking his head. "But Hermione is right. If we kill the snake, we risk him getting suspicious and checking the others-"

"-and if he realizes the diary, ring, and locket are gone, we're royally fucked." Ron finished, looking defeated.

"No, we'll have to leave the snake for last." At that, Draco's eyes snapped up to meet Harry's in a glare.

"We are not leaving my mother with that thing while we go gallivanting around, searching for god knows how long-"

" _We?"_ Who says you're going anywhere with us?" Ron interjected.

"I'm a part of this now, like it or not, Weasley. I want the bastard dead as much as you do-"

"That doesn't mean you're invited to have any direct part in this! Harry, tell him-"

"Would you two shut up," Hermione snapped. "This is hard enough without you sniping at each other."

Draco clenched his jaw and Ron glowered at her, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like _"only one sniping at anyone"_ under his breath. She ignored him.

"He's right," she continued in a haughty tone. "We can't leave his mother there. We'll have to come up with a way to get Narcissa out of the Manor without Voldemort losing trust in Draco. And soon."

"If the Dark Lord is using his snake to monitor what Draco says to Narcissa, letting her know of any type of plan is going to be near impossible," Remus said with a frown. "There has to be a way to do this without her involvement…"

Draco clenched the back of his chair. "If she disappears out of thin air, he'll blame me. The Portkey plan isn't going to work if we're trying to keep me in his good graces. I don't… I mean, short of faking a death, there isn't anything we can-"

"That's it!" Hermione clapped her hands together excitedly. "It's like what Harry was saying- Plan B!"

Harry looked at her confusedly. "Draught of Living Death? But- Draco was worried about getting the body out, that's why we vetoed it in the first place. Not to mention that without her knowing the plan… what are we supposed to do, spike her tea?"

Draco scowled. "We're not drugging my mother. Potter's right for once. There's too much that could go wrong, especially if we have to keep her in the dark." All three men exchanged worried glances when Hermione grinned wickedly.

 _"That's_ why," she said, still smiling, "Narcissa won't be the one taking the potion."

Remus frowned. "You can't mean-"

"I do mean," she said, nodding. "We'll create a diversion to distract the snake- use the Portkey to bring Narcissa here. I'll use Polyjuice and-"

"Like hell you will," Harry snarled. "We are already risking a lot to get one person out of danger here, we are _not_ going to toss you in there as some kind of sacrifice."

"It won't be a sacrifice," she protested. "We'll make the switch, and I know the plan, so I'd be able to try and get a little information while I'm there-"

Harry and Ron were already protesting again, but she ignored them and plowed right on.

"-and then _I'll_ take the Draught, Draco can ask, respectfully of course, to take my body to bury with the rest of the Malfoys and then we'll be home free."

"And what if he denies me?" Draco was shaking his head. "I don't think you understand the magnitude of what you're suggesting, Granger. If you're caught- you don't understand what they'd do to you."

"So you've got a better suggestion, then?" She looked at him challengingly.

"The plan itself could have some merit," Remus said thoughtfully. "It's incredibly risky, of course- I'd actually call it foolhardy, if we're being frank- but we don't have a lot of options."

Harry stood. "If anyone's posing as Narcissa, it'll be me. I'm not going to let any of you risk your lives for this."

"Who died and made you king? You'd be tortured worse than Granger if the Dark Lord got his hands on you, Potter." Draco sneered, earning glares from all around the table. Hermione looked annoyed, but she agreed with him.

"You're the most important one here," she said. "It's… you know it's got to be you, to kill him- that's why we're doing this, isn't it?"

"You're mad if you think I'm going to let you-"

"Last I checked you weren't in a position to grant me _permission_ for anything, Harry Potter!" Her voice was growing shrill, and Ron cut her off.

"I'll take the Polyjuice," he said gravely. "If anyone's going to put themselves at risk here, it'll be me." At that, Draco let out a burst of loud laughter.

"Weasley, posing as a woman? A _Malfoy,_ at that? You've all gone mad. Even a servant would see straight through you. You'd be strung up in the dungeons before you'd even seen the inside of my mother's quarters."

"That's why," Hermione said primly, "It's got to be me. We _need_ to keep Draco as an informant if at all possible. I'll bring an emergency Portkey. If it all goes south, the worst that can happen is I'll nip out and Draco has to come into hiding with us. But if it works…"

Uncomfortable silence fell around the table.

"Even if we go along with this- which I am still opposed to doing, by the way- it'll take us a month to brew the Polyjuice. That's a whole month that Narcissa's stuck there." Harry frowned at her.

"A month to prepare, then."

* * *

Draco left the safehouse the next day to collect all the ingredients for both Polyjuice Potion and the Draught of Living Death. He made sure to transfigure his glaringly obvious platinum hair into a nondescript brown mop, and spread his purchases out across three different apothecaries to avoid suspicion. He may not have _necessarily_ been in hiding, but if anyone grew curious about what Draco was doing brewing Polyjuice Potion, well… he didn't want to take that risk. When he had a full bag of all the various components, he turned on his heel and Apparated back to the safehouse. _It's so much more convenient now that they trust me, at least a little,_ he thought as he slipped through the door and down the hallway.

Hermione was waiting for him in the kitchen, having already commandeered the use of the table as her personal Potions station for the next month. The second he walked through the door, she leapt to her feet and snatched the bag from his hands, already digging through it even as she walked back to her chair.

"Thanks for going out to get all those ingredients, Draco," he said in a high-pitched voice, dropping dramatically into the chair across the table from her and sprawling his legs out to the side. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Thank you, Draco," she said, pulling out the vial of lacewing flies and setting about getting them ready to stew.

"You're so wonderful for helping me out all the time," he continued in the same voice, "Not to mention handsome and- hey!" The cork stopper from the vial of lacewing flies hit him squarely in the forehead and he glared at her.

"That's payback for the toast," she said without looking up. He snorted, but didn't argue. They sat in comfortable silence for the next ten minutes or so as Hermione heated a cauldron and carefully set the lacewing flies to stew. Her wild curls were slipping out of the knot at the back of her head, frizzing around her face in the heat from the cauldron, and he found himself strangely endeared by the sight. _I'm glad we're speaking again_ , he thought. Granger was, after all, the one who'd been the most welcoming immediately following his defection- aside from their fight, of course, but he was familiar enough with bouts of righteous anger to sympathize. _She'd have gotten along well with some of the Slytherins,_ he mused. _Theo, for certain. Daphne would probably like her too… it's a shame about the Muggle-born thing, else she'd be perfect-_ he cut off that line of thinking with a frown. Being Muggle-born actually seemed to have little effect on the rest of Hermione's personality- other than her ignorance of pureblood  & wizarding customs- which would have to be fixed before she attempted to pose as his own mother, of course. It gave Draco pause because she was, in fact, the first Muggle-born he'd ever interacted with on any type of personal level, and he actually _liked_ her company. She was sarcastic and funny, and a hell of a lot smarter than some of the purebloods in his own year- Crabbe and Goyle, for one. _My father has been wrong about enough else, it shouldn't surprise me that he'd be ignorant about this, too._

His head snapped up when he heard Hermione say something and he was drawn out of his reverie.

"What?"

She was wiping her hands on her apron, an amused expression on her face. "I said thanks again," she said, "this time it was for treating my plan like a valid idea instead of fawning over my fragility and refusing to let me do anything remotely dangerous."

"I'm not your keeper," he said, frowning. "Of course it's dangerous, I told you myself what they'd do to you if you're caught-"

"You didn't, actually."

"Well, suffice it to say that it wouldn't be pleasant. I know what a risk we're taking, as well as you do. But… you're doing it for me, for my mother. I can't…" He swallowed. "I'm really grateful for that, Granger."

"Hermione."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hermione. And I don't express gratitude often, so don't get used to it."

"Oh, I would _never._ "


	6. Chapter 6

NOTE: Nothing much to say here. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, I love to hear your thoughts! :)

CHAPTER 6

Thirty days later found Draco, Harry, Ron, and Remus all standing around the kitchen table-turned-potions lab, staring apprehensively at Hermione as she carefully bottled the completed Draught of Living Death. She slipped a stopper into the tiny glass vial and then turned to face Draco, her hand extended expectantly.

"I brought a few," he said, depositing three long white-blonde hairs into her waiting hand. He had been to visit Narcissa twice more in the past month- the first time, to gift her with the little Portkey ring. He'd slipped it onto her small finger and made her promise never to take it off. His mother had given him the brightest smile he'd seen from her in months and sworn it would never leave her finger. It made her think of him, she said. Little did she know that with a single quiet incantation, the very ring would transport her directly to the Order safehouse where Draco was currently staying.

The second time he visited her, she'd burst into hysterical tears, sobbing quietly over how Draco worried her, over how she hadn't seen Lucius in weeks, over how his task was coming along. Draco hated to see his mother cry, but he'd taken the situation in stride and held her as she wept- stroking her fine hair and taking the opportunity to discreetly deposit the stray ones in his robe pocket. Now, he handed those to Hermione and watched as she dropped one into the otherwise completed Polyjuice. The thick, bubbling potion immediately turned shimmering blue, and Hermione smiled at the change.

"Everything's come out perfectly," she said as she began to bottle the second potion. "There's enough Polyjuice for thirty-six hours, though I doubt we'll need that long."

"I still don't like this," Harry said heavily. "Do you have the Portkey?"

Hermione held up her right hand in response- a tiny pearl ring, identical to Narcissa's, shone on her little finger.

"If _anything_ happens- you Portkey out. Your safety is absolutely more important than fishing for information, got it?"

"Yes, father," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes at Harry. "Have you got the clothes, Draco?"

He sighed and handed over a bag containing a set of his mother's robes, including a pair of boots and duplicates of her wedding rings. Their plan was simple- _in theory, of course_. Harry was to go nowhere near the Manor- the risk that Voldemort would be there and sense his presence was too great. Draco was to go home under pretense of visiting his mother- Ron  & Hermione would accompany him, under Harry's invisibility cloak. Ron had brought some sort of device from his brothers' joke shop- he called it a Decoy Detonator- which he'd use to create a diversion on the top floor and hopefully draw the snake's attention. With Nagini gone from the room, they'd activate Narcissa's Portkey and Hermione would take her place. Simple. _In theory._

"Right, I'm going to go change. Is everyone ready?"

" _Now?"_ Even Draco looked startled.

"Well, yes," Hermione said impatiently. "There's no reason to wait any longer now, is there?"

"I suppose not," he said slowly. "Hermione, don't forget to send me a message before you take the Living Death. I need to-"

"I know, don't worry. I haven't forgotten." She smiled and brushed past him, out of the room to go change her robes. She'd given Draco a charmed Galleon like the ones she'd made for the D.A. back in fifth year. It'd make communication easier while she was locked up as Narcissa- and once she took the Living Death, Draco would need to make sure she had Polyjuice in her system every hour that she was unconscious.

A weary "Bloody hell" came from Ron's corner of the table.

"You alright, mate?" Harry asked him.

"Not particularly looking forward to this, no." He looked positively green with nerves.

"Fred and George won't let us down."

Ron eyed him darkly. "It isn't Fred and George I'm worried about."

"Excuse me," Draco began coldly, but Ron cut him off.

"It's not you I'm worried about either, ferret. I know you're just as worried about your mother as we are about Hermione."

"I'm-" _I'm worried about Hermione, too,_ Draco wanted to say. But that seemed too heartfelt and out of place, so he just nodded slowly and turned away from Potter and Weasley. He heard Remus reassuring the other men in a low voice, but their murmurs turned to sparse laughter when Hermione reappeared in the kitchen.

Narcissa was several inches taller than Hermione, and the robes, elegantly tailored as they were, pooled at her feet. Hermione scowled at them and crossed the room to pick up the flask of Polyjuice from where she'd left it on the table.

With a "Here goes nothing," she tilted the flask and took a small swallow of the potion. "At least she tastes nice."

The four men watched in morbid fascination as Hermione's entire body began to bubble and morph into Narcissa Malfoy's. Her nose turned up delicately, her lips thinned, she grew several inches (and filled out her robes in the process), and her wild brown curls smoothed and lightened to silver blonde.

"That never gets less disturbing," said Ron, shaking his head as Hermione slipped Narcissa's impressive diamond engagement ring and wedding band onto her left hand.

"Does _everyone_ have their Portkeys?" Harry checked yet again. "Hermione? Ron? Draco?"

"I don't need a Portkey, remember" Draco said, rolling his eyes. "But yes, Hermione and Weasel have theirs."

"Good. And do you have the-"

"Yes, Harry, I have the Detonator." Ron said wearily.

"What about-"

"Bloody hell, we've been planning this for a month! We're as prepared as we're going to get." Harry looked angry for a moment, but then his face fell in defeat. Harry was usually the impulsive one in the group- being left out of such a dangerous mission was making him very uncomfortable. He'd compensated by becoming incredibly concerned about every move the rest of them made.

"He's right. You're as prepared as can be," Remus said in a quiet voice. "And you should go soon. We don't want Hermione wasting Polyjuice time..."

There were a few moments of tense silence, and Hermione wrapped Ron, Harry and Remus into a group hug. Even Draco allowed himself to be pulled in after a few moments, though he only put his arms around Hermione, pointedly avoiding any _awkward_ contact with the other men.

"Right," she finally said, stepping back determinedly. "We've got a rescue mission to get to."

* * *

Hermione, Draco and Ron Apparated to directly outside the Malfoy property boundary, stopping where the line of Malfoy wards began.

"We've all got to be touching when we cross," Draco said in a low voice. "And don't argue, Weasley- if a Malfoy doesn't bring you over the line personally, I promise you it won't be pleasant." He paused to consider for a moment, then said "Although if you'd rather be fried by the wards, I could-"

Ron gave him a murderous look, but slapped his hand onto Draco's shoulder all the same, effectively silencing him. Hermione wrapped her fingers around his upper arm and the three of them crossed the line together. There was a faint buzzing sensation as they passed through the wards, but all three of them arrived on the other side unscathed. Immediately after, Ron pulled the invisibility cloak from his bag and threw it over himself and Hermione. They were both unhappy to discover that there was _far_ less room under it than they remembered from their early years at Hogwarts. It was made even worse by the fact that Hermione was now taller than usual.

"Right," Draco said quietly, "I'm going to assume you're right behind me. Stay close." He didn't wait for a response before heading swiftly up the drive. Hermione was grateful that the sound of his boots crunching heavily on the gravel masked her and Ron's own footsteps. It was a long walk from the ward line to the manor, mostly spent carefully watching her own feet so as not to trip and blow their cover before even seeing the front door.

When they finally made their way up the steps and through the heavy wooden double doors, Hermione was shocked to find the foyer nearly empty. There was a single Death Eater sitting in a chair against one wall, mask in his lap, presumably on some type of guard duty. Hermione didn't recognize him.

"Draco," said the man, straightening when he saw him enter. "Didn't know you'd be by today."

"I do still _live_ here," Draco drawled, giving the man a contemptuous glare. "I'm going up to see my mother. Do not disturb us." He swept past the man and through another large room, starting up an enormous staircase. Under normal circumstances, Hermione would have stopped to gape at the unbelievable grandeur of everything around her- she'd known they called it a _manor_ but she couldn't believe this place was Draco's _home-_ but she was sufficiently distracted by Ron repeatedly stepping on her heels as they walked and the cloak blurring her field of vision. She was vaguely suspicious that they hadn't run into anyone aside from the single Death Eater in the entrance hall, but given how _large_ the place was it wasn't entirely unbelievable. Draco continued up the stairs without a backwards glance, and Hermione and Ron hurried behind him so as not to lose their way. He led them silently through a maze of hallways and up at least three more staircases before they arrived on what Hermione assumed was the top floor.

 _Game time,_ she thought to herself, taking a fresh swig of Polyjuice and tucking the flask back into her pocket. Draco paused and cocked his head to the side as if to make sure his invisible followers were still there, and Hermione obliged him by clearing her throat ever so quietly beside him. He nodded almost imperceptibly and knocked softly on the half-closed door in front of them, only pushing it completely open when a quiet "Enter" came from the other side.

Narcissa was seated in her chair by the window, her pale hair illuminated prettily by the golden sunset light behind her.

"Draco," she said, sounding surprised but not unhappy to see him. "It's been too long since you came to visit."

"I apologize, Mother. You know how… taxing… my latest activities have been. I hope you've been well." He stepped closer to embrace her, and Hermione and Ron stayed near the door, poised under the cloak.

"I understand. I've been well, of course." She smiled tightly and her eyes darted to the dark wood armoire set against the wall across from them. _So the snake's under it, then._

"Have you heard much from Aunt Bella lately, Mother?" Narcissa looked slightly taken aback by the question, but Hermione felt Ron shift next to her, digging in the pockets of his robe. The mention of Bellatrix was his signal to let loose the Detonator.

"No more than usual," she said. "I believe she is away on a mission with the Dark Lord at the moment. She'd preen over it to anyone willing to listen, of course."

"I'm sure," Draco said, smiling tightly. Hermione watched with bated breath as the Detonator dropped to the floor and scurried out of the open door, off down the hallway. Several seconds of silence passed before a deafening _BANG_ came from the opposite side of the floor. Immediately, a dark flash emerged from underneath the armoire- Nagini. The enormous snake swayed dangerously through the door to investigate the source of the noise- hopefully, there would be nothing to find. Hermione had charmed the Detonator to vanish itself after exploding.

"What in the name of Merlin?" Narcissa stood, staring towards the door with a fearful expression on her face. The instant Nagini's tail vanished from the doorway, Draco rushed towards his mother and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm coming right after you, Mother," he whispered. Then " _Portus."_ She let out a soft cry of surprise as the sensation of the Portkey took hold of her, but before she could say anything else, she was gone. Hermione threw the cloak off of herself and dashed towards Draco, taking Narcissa's place in the chair by the window.

They sat in silence for several long moments. Hermione's heart was hammering in her chest, and judging from Draco's face (which had gone several shades paler than usual, if it were possible) he was in equal amounts of shock. _We really just did that,_ she thought. _There is no way it was this easy. Holy hell._ Ron would be gone by now, they knew. He was to Portkey out directly after Narcissa, arriving at the safehouse to ensure she was alright and to help explain what was going on. Draco leaned forward and took one of her hands in both of his, trying to convey his thoughts with only his eyes and the squeeze of his fingers. She nodded slightly at him and squeezed back.

Suddenly, the Death Eater from the entrance hall appeared in the doorway of the room. He was wheezing as if he'd just run up all the flights of stairs, and clutching his wand in front of him with a shaking hand.

"I thought I told you not to disturb us," Draco snapped at him. He dropped Hermione's hand and turned to face the man with a sneer.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the man said weakly. "I heard- that crash, heard it from four floors away, I didn't… I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you will be." Draco took a step towards him, but Hermione laid one hand on his arm.

"Now Draco," she said with a hint of alarm, "I'm quite sure that won't be necessary." She hoped she wasn't overstepping her boundaries, but stopping a man from being tortured seemed like something Narcissa would do. She hoped. As she was speaking, Nagini reentered the room, looking agitated. The snake swept directly over to Hermione and curled herself beneath the window chair, hissing. Hermione repressed the shudder that ran through her at the way the temperature seemed to drop in the presence of the beast.

"Very well," he said, still sounding murderous. "Leave us." The man hastily complied, and Draco turned back to Hermione.

"I apologize for cutting my visit so short, Mother," he said softly. "I'll come back far sooner this time, I promise."

"Of course," Hermione murmured back at him, trying hard to conceal how nervous she felt. He leaned forward and embraced her as he'd done to the real Narcissa only minutes earlier, then gave her one last penetrating look before backing out of the room and closing the door softly behind him.

* * *

Draco hurried back out of the Manor and Apparated to the safehouse as quickly as humanly possible. When he entered the kitchen, the last thing he expected to find was his mother shouting at Potter, Weasley and Lupin- but there she was, all five foot seven of her, waving her hands in a manner most undignified for a lady, least of all a Malfoy.

"Mother," he exclaimed, rushing forward and taking her hands in his own. "Mother, I'm sorry we didn't tell you, it was the only way to get you out under that snake's nose. Weasley was supposed to explain-"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley was quick to explain that you all thought it would be prudent to abandon Ms. Granger in the manor with nothing but a bit of Polyjuice potion! _How_ you could be so absolutely irresponsible-"

"I tried to tell them that, Mrs. Malfoy-" started Harry, making Draco glare daggers at him.

"Shut up, Potter," he spat. "Yes, Mother, we _are aware_ that our plan is risky, but Hermione thought it would be _best_ for me to stay in the Dark Lord's good graces. She's not only there with Polyjuice, she has Dreamless Sleep too, and-"

"Oh, Draco. She'll be confined to the top floor as I was. I don't know what information you hoped to find, but she won't learn anything trapped in there. If Bellatrix deigns to visit 'me' when she returns- or Merlin forbid, the Dark Lord himself…" She shook her head. "If you're planning on faking a death, she needs to get on with it, now. Otherwise, Portkey her out if you value her life." She looked so utterly, sincerely frightened that Draco's blood ran cold.

Harry looked stunned. "She… I didn't realize you…"

"You didn't realize I cared so much for the girl who is risking her life, as we speak, to save mine?" Narcissa said drily.

"It isn't that, I just… I apologize. Send the message, Draco."

Draco was still standing at the edge of the hallway, stunned. He was starting to wonder if they had made a terrible mistake- was this whole, harebrained scheme really worth the minimal amounts of information the Dark Lord deigned to grace him with? He lifted the charmed Galleon from his pocket with shaking hands and keyed a message into it. 'Portkey. Now.'

* * *

When Draco exited the room, Hermione stared at the door for several long, silent moments before turning to face the window as Narcissa had done. Nagini was still hissing under the chair, so Hermione lifted her feet to curl them under her- the snake made her incredibly uncomfortable; she pitied Narcissa spending months locked on this floor with the beast. He had only been gone for a half hour when she felt the charmed Galleon burning hot in her pocket. She frowned. _Has something already gone wrong?_ She pulled the small gold coin from her robes and examined it- 'Portkey. Now.' Before she had time to key in a response, the door behind her flew open- she hastily shoved the Galleon back into her pocket.

"Draco?" She said, hopefully, as she turned around to face the door. It was with a pang in her chest that she recognized not Draco, but the wild, crazed face of Bellatrix Lestrange. _Gone on a mission with the Dark Lord,_ she recalled Draco saying. _Back already? Maybe I can get her bragging and convince to tell me something useful…_

"Bellatrix," she corrected herself with a generic smile. "How was your afternoon?"

Hermione found herself wishing she'd asked Draco more about his mother's relationship with her sister- she wasn't entirely sure how to act around the other woman. Bellatrix smiled widely at her and stalked purposefully towards where she sat at the window, twirling her wand in her fingers.

"Cissy," she simpered. "I've just had the most _enlightening_ evening with the Dark Lord."

"Oh?"

"Oh, yes," she agreed, nodding in an infuriatingly condescending manner. "You'd never believe what he told me- about your _son_ , none other!"

Hermione started. "Draco? What about him?"

"Well, you see," she said, "He's heard- from a reliable source, of course- that Draco is a _filthy blood traitor_ who's been plotting to _steal you away_ right under his nose!" She laughed maniacally. Hermione's blood ran cold.

"Draco? A traitor?" She scoffed, trying not to betray how absolutely terrified she felt. "He's _playing the part_ of a traitor, of course. He's getting information from the Order to help our side. He's-"

"That's all lovely, dear… _sister_ ," Bellatrix interrupted. "I just have a few questions, if you don't mind. For one- why on earth did two… _unknown_ individuals leave this room via Portkey, less than an hour ago?"

Hermione swallowed.

"I don't know what you're-"

" _Why,_ " she repeated, "Did two Portkeys leave this room?" Her wand was suddenly pressed roughly into Hermione's throat, and she gasped unwillingly.

"Who are you, and where is Narcissa?"


	7. Chapter 7

NOTE: This was a really difficult chapter for me to write for some reason and I am not completely happy with it. I'm starting to have trouble writing this story the way I want to (I have the whole plot outlined, I'm just feeling shitty about my writing skills. Ugh.) Hopefully you guys enjoy it anyway. Let me know what you think!

CHAPTER 7

"I _told_ you this was a shit idea, I _said_ it was too dangerous!" Harry had drawn himself up to full height, eyes flashing, and even Draco had to admit that he looked a bit terrifying when he was so riled up. "If she- I swear to Merlin, Malfoy, if you've killed her-"

"No one here has killed anyone, Mr. Potter," Narcissa sniffed. She looked disgusted. A twinge of guilt and more than a little fear was twisting in Draco's gut, even despite his mother's words. He tilted his head towards Harry with more confidence than he felt and drawled, "She isn't _dead,_ you git. We just have to _go back_ for her."

"Then fucking GO!"

Lupin was seated at one end of the table, seemingly lost in thought; he had barely said a word since Draco had returned, even with Harry's shouting. Even Weasley was nearly silent for once in his life, though Draco supposed that could be attributed to the shock of the recent revelations. He gave the lot of them one last arrogant sneer (to assure them- and himself- that he wasn't turning into a worrying, sniffling prat, of course) and spun on his heel. The familiar, crushing sensation of Apparition took hold of him- but instead of the typical feeling of squeezing through a dark tube to his destination, there was a peculiar sense of being trapped. The darkness closed tighter and tighter around him until he felt like his lungs were going to explode- and then it abruptly ended, and Draco found himself in a heap on the floor, gasping for air. He looked up to find a half circle of faces staring down at him.

"What just happened?" Ron asked. "You were- flickering, like…"

"I don't… I don't know." Draco looked to his mother for help, but even as he said the words, the twinge of dread inside him was growing larger, threatening to overwhelm him. "I started to Apparate but then it felt like- it didn't work."

Narcissa tightened her lips. "It would appear that someone at the Manor is aware of your betrayal. The wards have been closed to you."

"Well we'll just have to break them!" Harry said fiercely. "We can- Remus, can we get in?"

They all turned to their old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor where he was still sitting silently, his bottom lip between his teeth. The man looked back at them, tired eyes meeting Draco's worried stare, and said at last, "Get us as close as you can manage. It's going to be a long night."

* * *

The moment Bellatrix shoved her wand into Hermione's throat, she rightfully began to panic. This scenario was _nowhere_ in the million she'd run through her mind in preparation for the rescue mission, and the best solution seemed to be escape- so she tried.

" _Who are you?!"_ Bellatrix shrieked at her.

"I- I'm Narcissa, I-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" She drew her free hand back as if to slap her, and Hermione took advantage of the movement to twist out of her grip and shake her wand from her sleeve.

" _Portus!"_ She cried, touching vinewood to the gold of the ring on her finger- nothing happened. "Portus!" She tried again, and again and again, heartbeat steadily rising, until the wand flew from her hand with a wordless summoning charm.

"You didn't _really_ think you'd still be able to Portkey out, hmmm?" Bellatrix laughed. "I'm going to ask you one more time- _who are you?_ "

Hermione pressed her lips together and stayed silent. Her heart was pounding and she was frantically trying to calculate _exactly_ how long she had been there and how long she had until her Polyjuice wore off. Her blood ran cold when Bellatrix's lips spread into a wide, demented grin, yellowed teeth on full display. The woman stalked forward and put one hand around Hermione's throat- caressing, ever so lightly, as she spoke.

"You don't want to tell me, is that it? You will. Who are you!" She turned her wand on Hermione and her heart leapt into her throat; she felt a cold static shoot through her veins and braced herself for pain, but nothing else happened. "Not transfigured, then. Polyjuice, is it?" The witch's grin widened. " _Accio_ Polyjuice Potion!" Hermione slapped a hand over her pocket, but it was in vain. The vial shot out from her robes and into Bellatrix's waiting hand, where she promptly uncorked it and turned it upside down. Pale blue liquid streamed out onto the floor and spread across the boards where it landed, seeping into the cracks. "Now that _that's_ taken care of… why don't we make a bet, hmm? _I_ bet that I can make you tell me who you are _before_ your Polyjuice runs out. _Crucio!"_ Cruel red light flashed out of her wand and struck Hermione square in the chest; her body was immediately thrown backwards against the wall. She slid down and collapsed onto the floor, convulsing, screaming as thousands of invisible, white-hot knives carved into her skin. She screamed and screamed and her vision went blurry, and she heard nothing but her own screams and Bellatrix's maniacal laughter as she pleaded to Godric and Merlin and _hell_ even Salazar to stop the madness while she still had it in her to keep her own secret.

"What shall I have if I win?" Bellatrix mused. She'd released the curse for a sweet moment, and Hermione remained on the floor, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her convulsions had destroyed the elegant twist of her hair, and pale strands lay haphazardly under her cheek. _Still blonde. Still Narcissa._ "If I win," the other woman continued, "I get to kill you even _more_ slowly... and if you win…" She twirled her wand in her fingers, looking contemplative. "Well, if you win, I'll still kill you. Are you going to tell me?"

"Please," Hermione whispered. The word had slipped from her lips unbidden- she knew pleading with Bellatrix was a lost cause.

" _Please,_ she says! _Please!_ _Crucio!"_

* * *

Draco, Ron and Remus stood outside the gates of Malfoy Manor, almost exactly where the earlier rescue mission had begun. Harry had very reluctantly agreed to stay behind at the safehouse with Narcissa while the other three men attempted to break the wards and go back for Hermione. He'd insisted at first on coming along for the second rescue mission of the night, but the real possibility that Voldemort would show up at the Manor when the wards came down made that unwise- and they'd made enough risky decisions for one night.

Remus was pacing along the ward line, gazing up as if it were a visible wall and muttering to himself. He was waving his wand in complicated patterns, studying the tiny bursts of light and smoke that emerged; finally he seemed satisfied and returned to the group.

"These are blood wards, correct?" He asked, turning to Draco, who nodded. Ron looked disgusted.

"Honestly, who uses blood wards anymore? Archaic, that is."

"Actually, Ron, in this case the blood wards will work in our favor. Draco is permanently keyed into the wards here because he's a Malfoy. If we can just dismantle the layers they've thrown up on top, he should be able to bring us through like he did earlier," Remus said.

Draco nodded determinedly at the older man. "Right. So have at it, then."

"I'm afraid it still won't be so easy," he said wanly. "I'll need both of you to help- this is going to require a great deal of magic. Follow my wand movements." He brought his wand up in a wide arc and then snapped it into a complicated spiral above his head. "The spell is wordless. Reach out and focus on the wards themselves, the grid. You should be able to feel the magic. Imagine dismantling it, layer by layer."

Draco lifted his wand, mimicking the pattern Remus was repeating; he saw Ron do the same on his right side. He furrowed his brow and focused intently on the magic buzzing around him- the protections were, indeed, laid out in a fairly simple grid pattern. The difficult part was removing each layer in the proper order- one slip and the explosion would likely kill them all. With a leap in his chest, Draco located the piece he was looking for and immediately concentrated all of his magical energy on disintegrating it. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead- to each side of him, Ron and Remus were equally concentrated, all focused on the invisible wall before them. Finally, with a shower of deep purple sparks and a sound like a cannon blast, they succeeded. Draco dropped his wand and doubled over, panting.

"Bloody hell, that was loud," Ron was gasping. "They'll know we're here-"

"Again," Remus said, mouth set in a grim line. "We have to do this quickly."

Draco groaned. "How many more?"

"I don't know."

The three men set their jaws and once again lifted their wands to the ward line.

* * *

Hermione had no idea how much time had passed, but she knew her Polyjuice disguise must be nearing the end of its life. Bellatrix had laughed and Crucio'd her again and again, but the woman was clearly growing increasingly frustrated that Hermione had yet to relent and admit her identity. She was shaking on the floor in the aftershocks of the most recent round of the torture curse when she felt her skin start to bubble and morph, and when it did she knew she was done for. She turned her head to the side, trying in vain to hide her face as it twisted back to Hermione Granger's, watching through squinted eyes as silver hair turned chocolate brown.

Bellatrix noticed immediately and laughed delightedly. "Aha! _Who are you_ , you little…" She had leapt forward when Hermione turned her head, snatching her face between cold fingers and forcing her to look up. When recognition set in, she leapt back as if she'd been scalded. _"YOU!"_ She shouted, leveling her wand as she screeched, readying another Cruciatus. "You're Potter's little Mudblood… _oh_ , this is just _filthy_ … Draco, running about with blood traitors and filth… you…ARGHHH! CRUCIO!" Her rant trailed off into a gargled scream and Hermione saw red again- she'd long since lost count of how many times she'd been cursed. This one felt stronger than the others, fueled by Bellatrix's rage- she screamed and screamed until she could no longer hear herself, and when the curse relented for a few seconds, she felt herself retch and vomit all over the front of her robes, mingling with her tears.

"Where is Harry Potter?" Bellatrix demanded.

Hermione opened her mouth to answer and choked on a sob instead.

 _"_ _Crucio!_ Where is Potter?!"

"I don't know," she lied, in between screams. "I swear, I don't know!"

"DON'T LIE TO ME! I know Draco's been helping you! Where is he? What do you know? WHAT HAS THAT FILTHY LITTLE-" She stopped short, a terrifyingly sweet smile taking over her features. "I understand," she said in a singsong tone, drawing a short silver knife from somewhere in her robes. "All you wanted was a little extra persuasion! I should have thought of it myself." The woman stalked closer to Hermione and kicked her onto her back, into the pool of her own vomit. "So filthy," she said, clucking her tongue against her teeth. "Only to be expected from a Mudblood, of course." Those long fingers reached out to snatch Hermione's wrist in her hand; her body was still shaking from the Cruciatus, and she was too weak to react when the tip of the silver knife pressed into the soft skin of her forearm, drawing an agonized cry from her lips. Her screams mingled with Bellatrix's gleeful singing- "Mudblood, Mudblood, Mudblood!"

* * *

"This is the last one, I think…"

The three men were still outside the ward line of Malfoy Manor, soaked in sweat and trembling with exhaustion. The wards were set to create new barriers as they were destroyed, and they had had to resort to simultaneously dismantling multiple layers. The energy they'd used in the process was enormous, but they were finally down to the last layer of the grid. Wands were raised and spells were cast, and with a last, deafening blast and an explosion that shook the ground under their feet, the last layer fell. Draco stood, gasping, blinking tiredly at Remus and Ron, and held out one arm wordlessly.

"Are we sure this will work?" Ron looked worried. "What happens if we missed one?"

"We die," Remus said flatly.

"But-"

"We don't have _time_ for this," Draco snapped. "Hermione's in there and-"

At that, Ron nodded firmly and gripped Draco's shoulder tightly. "Hermione," he repeated. "Let's go get her."

With Ron on one side and Remus on his other, Draco approached the ward line just as he had earlier in the night. He took one steadying breath and stepped over the line- and arrived on the other side unscathed.

"We don't have the invisibility cloak this time," he began, but Remus cut him off.

"It doesn't matter," said the older man. "They must know we're coming. Just…" He lifted his wand and cast Disillusionment charms over all three of them, then gestured towards the Manor. "Let's go."

All three men took off at a sprint down the gravel drive.

"Wait, wait!" Draco shouted, gasping. "I'd forgotten, now that we're in, we can-" He spun on his heel and Apparated to directly outside the front doors. Ron and Remus quickly followed his lead, and together they flung the heavy doors open and stormed into the foyer- only to stop in shock.

The Death Eater guard from earlier was sprawled across the floor, dead. His mask was on the ground beside him, his eyes open wide and unseeing, and a thin trickle of blood stained the skin below his nose.

"You don't think he was meant to guard against _us_ , do you?" Ron asked slowly.

"Don't know," Draco said, already stepping over the body to start up the huge staircase.

"All these bloody stairs," Ron commented. "How can you _live_ like this?"

"You live in a seven story castle for eight months of the year," Draco pointed out. Remus actually snorted.

They were running up the aforementioned stairs, taking them two at a time, when they first heard the screams. A voice that was unmistakably Hermione's was screaming in agony, and a second was singing happily. "Mudblood, Mudblood!"

 _"_ _Fucking Bellatrix,"_ Draco snarled. "She really- we should have-"

"Nothing we can do now, just _get her,_ " Remus said. Ron was already gone. The Disillusionment spell rendered him nearly invisible, but they all heard his footsteps slapping up the stairs at inhuman speed, and the slam of the door as he threw it open and it pounded against the wall. "HERMIONE!" He was shouting. "HERMIONE!"

"Fuck," Draco cursed. He and Remus followed Ron up the stairs, turning into the hallway where they'd left Hermione as Narcissa only hours before. He had barely skidded into the room when he heard his aunt shriek "FINITE!" And he felt his Disillusionment fall away.

"Well, well, well," she sang, wand leveled at him. "Widdle Drakey's come home! Couldn't stand to let your Mudblood whore die without you, hmm?"

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but the sight of the room rendered him speechless and slightly ill. Hermione lay slumped against one wall, unconscious in a pool of blood and vomit. She was pale, so pale, and had what looked like _words_ carved into her forearm- the formerly pale skin was smeared with blood and burning bright red.

And then- worse, because of course things _had_ to get worse- in the center of the room, Ron Weasley was sprawled on his back next to Nagini, eyes twitching, a sickening gurgling noise coming from his pale lips- and two large puncture wounds marring his shoulder, visible under torn robes.


	8. Chapter 8

**NOTE** : Yeah, I apologize for this chapter. I'm absolutely horrid at writing action scenes so this is definitely a dodgy one. Hopefully it gets the point across, but you're still free to tell me if you think it's shit. Lol. Oh, I also tried a new line break thingie in this one (it's the little o.o.o). Whew. Happy reading :)

 **CHAPTER 8**

 _Draco opened his mouth to retort, but the sight of the room rendered him speechless and slightly ill. Hermione lay slumped against one wall, unconscious in a pool of blood and vomit. She was pale, so pale, and had what looked like words carved into her forearm- the formerly pale skin was smeared with blood and burning bright red._

 _And then- worse, because of course things had to get worse- in the center of the room, Ron Weasley was sprawled on his back next to Nagini, eyes twitching, a sickening gurgling noise coming from his pale lips- and two large puncture wounds marring his shoulder, visible under torn robes._

o.o.o.o.o

Draco reacted faster than he thought was humanly possible given the state of his stomach- roiling with nausea and threatening to spill its contents into his mother's now-bloodied parlor. He forced it down and leapt towards Bellatrix, sending curses towards her in rapid succession. The effort he'd used to shatter the wards outside the manor left him feeling significantly weaker than before, but the sight of Hermione's small form limp on the floor snapped something in him- as did the sight of Weasley, loathe as he was to admit. The boy was certainly a tosser, but Draco didn't _really_ want him to die, especially not like this, seizing on the floor with the Horcrux-snake curled around him. Bellatrix spun easily out of the way of the jets of light- _fuck-_ but Remus was already in the room as well, moving in sync with Draco, and their combined efforts forced the woman to concentrate on defending herself from the two of them. That didn't stop her from taunting them.

 _"_ _BOMBARDA!"_ Draco shouted, but the spell flew over his aunt's shoulder and into the wall behind her, blasting apart the side of the sitting room instead. The window exploded into a thousand shards that could be heard tinkling softly against the cobblestones in the rose garden so many stories below- it sounded out of place behind Bella's high-pitched laughter and the loud crashes of spellfire.

"How very _sweet_ ," Bellatrix taunted. She was cooing, her voice light and mocking even as she sent forth a barrage of curses so dark they made Draco's skin crawl as they whizzed past him. "I never thought I'd see the day a _Malfoy_ turned _traitor…_ but you've always been _quite_ the failure, haven't you, Draco?"

He snarled through clenched teeth and fought the urge to insult her in return- his eyes slipped to Hermione and he edged closer to her. If he could just _reach_ her he could Apparate them both away and then-

"Ah ah ah!" A wordless spell from Bellatrix forced him backwards and he found himself careening straight into Weasley's still-twitching body and then Nagini was rising up to strike him and he rolled out of the way with a shout of sheer terror, his hands slipping in the mess of spilled Polyjuice and blood on the floor. There was another shout from behind- Remus was throwing spells even faster, trying to distract Bellatrix so that Draco had time to collect himself. The woman snarled and slashed her wand at the old professor- her curse struck him in the leg and he collapsed with a cry of pain and a morbid splatter of blood. She laughed even harder at that, and Draco felt rage and humiliation rushing through his body and he forced himself back to his feet and then _"CRUCIO!"_ The angry red light burst from his wand and struck Bellatrix directly in the torso. She flew backwards with a scream of rage and tripped over the wreckage behind her, still howling.

"Can't even _torture_ , can you, you worthless boy! YOU WORTHLESS-"

"INCARCEROUS!" Thin, dark cords shot out from Lupin's wand, from where he lay bleeding on the floor, and wound their way around Bellatrix's body, pinning her arms to her sides. She was nearly immobilized, but her wand was still clasped between her fingers and with a last, infuriated shout, dark flames burst from the tip. They swept across the parlor with a deafening roar, crackling maliciously as they inched over the floor, devouring the wood greedily. Draco watched in horror as they leapt towards the bodies of Ron and Hermione, both limp on the floor- he and Remus dove in unison towards them, both shouting over Bellatrix's loud laughter. The action had Remus howling in pain, clutching his bloodied leg. Draco reached out for Hermione's pale wrists, grasping them in his hands and pulling her towards him, further from the flames.

"Take her!" Remus's voice rose over the din in a rasp. "Get Hermione out, I've- Ron-" At that, Draco hesitated, torn. He wanted nothing more than to grab Hermione from the floor and Apparate with her, to safety, but Remus was in no condition to continue fighting. He held those tiny, cold hands in his own and gritted his teeth together.

"Can you Apparate?" Draco asked.

Remus looked impatient and slightly confused. "I- what? I told you, _take Hermione,_ we can't leave Ron here, even if-"

"I'll _get_ Weasley. Can. You. Apparate?"

"Yes, I'll- alright, give me her hand."

"You won't be able to leave!" Bellatrix was still shrieking with laughter as her own flames drew closer and closer to her. "These aren't Malfoy wards, they're _my own!"_

Her cackling was cut short with a flick of Draco's wand; she was gagged with the same thin cords that held her arms to her sides. "Crazy bitch," he muttered, and almost as an afterthought, cast another quick spell and caught her own wand in his free hand. "Right," he said, tucking the wand into his robes, "if she's got wards up on the room you'll have to leave it to Apparate." Remus immediately understood, and with another _Bombarda,_ what remained of the parlor wall was blasted away into the garden below. The flames were growing uncomfortably hot around them, and Bellatrix was making ungodly sounds of agony even through her gag as they began to lick at her skin. Draco gripped Remus's arm and helped the man stagger to his feet, bracing him against the remainder of sitting room wall.

"You'll have to jump," Draco said as he pushed Hermione's limp form into Remus's arms. "And make sure you-"

"You don't have time for this," the man said quickly. "Get Ron." And before Draco could say another word, he had leapt from the top floor and disappeared into the dark.

Draco spun around, hands grasping at his blood and sweat-soaked hair, cursing desperately. The flames had risen high above his head, burning along the walls, enveloping his deranged aunt with the sickening smell of burning flesh- they'd crept closer and closer to Weasley, who was lying in the center of a flaming circle. For some reason the fire appeared to be held off by the pool of blood surrounding his body. The red liquid was beginning to bubble and congeal in the heat; he retched at the smell. He cast a shield charm towards the fire, but it had no effect- the flames burned straight through it with the crackle of dark magic.

"I swear Weasley, if I die for this, _I'm going to fucking kill you,"_ Draco hissed out loud. With that, he leapt forward into the circle around Weasley's body, cursing- he skidded on the bloody floor and cursed at that, too. He leaned forward and grabbed two fistfuls of torn and bloodied robes, hoisting Ron's dead weight upright and cringing when blood spurted forth across his face. _What the fuck, you're fucking heavy, Weasel._ He struggled for a few more moments before cursing yet again and whipping out his wand to levitate the body. _How could I forget I'm a fucking wizard, I'm not a bloody idiot. FUCK!_ He pointed his wand skyward, lifting Weasley nearly to the ceiling so as to float him over the flames. Draco steeled himself for a split second before charging forward through the dark fire, allowing a scream to pass his lips as the flames licked at his legs. Black smoke was choking the air and Bellatrix had stopped her strangled moaning- the thought that his aunt was dead left him strangely unaffected. He kicked his way through the rubble of the sitting room and paused for only a moment at the edge of the floor to lower Weasley enough to grip his arm again; then he leapt from the edge. The two of them plummeted towards the ground at breakneck speed; Draco twisted roughly in midair and with abrupt, crushing darkness, they left Malfoy Manor behind.

o.o.o.o.o

They landed on the floor of the safehouse in a heap, Draco atop Ron. He looked wildly around from the low vantage point, searching for Remus, for _Hermione-_ but only his mother stood before him. Even Potter was conspicuously absent.

"They're in the sitting room," was all she said, and Draco lurched to his feet to stumble into the adjacent room. There he found Hermione lain across the sofa, pale and bloody and still very much unconscious. The sight of her arm, raw and red, sent the nausea reeling straight back to his stomach and he knelt heavily beside her, his breath choked. Lupin was there, too, his own leg bloody and mangled, but he was running his wand over Hermione's body, casting healing charm after healing charm with frenzied concentration.

"Weasley isn't going to make it," Draco said without taking his eyes off Hermione. "The snake got to him, we need antivenin, and I don't… unless you…"

"Mr. Potter has gone to St. Mungo's in search of it," came his mother's voice again. "He seems to believe they'd have something on hand after the incident with Arthur Weasley a few years ago. Get him onto the table."

Draco clenched his teeth, not wanting to leave Hermione's side, but the urgency in his mother's tone spurred something in him and he wrenched himself away from her and back into the kitchen. Ron was still sprawled on the floor, pale and bloody and taking only shallow, unconscious breaths. Shaking, Draco levitated him once more, onto the kitchen table, and stood aside as his mother began casting cleansing charms, clearing the blood away from the boy's shoulder where the two large, ugly fang wounds marred his skin.

"Aunt Bella's dead," he told her flatly. "Her own curse." His mother only tightened her lips and continued her spellwork. The house was silent but for healing charms and choked breathing- Hermione and Lupin in one room, Narcissa and Ron in the other. They continued in the same fashion for several long minutes, Ron's breathing growing progressively shallow. Then, suddenly, the silence was rent with the crack of Apparition, and Harry Potter appeared in the middle of the kitchen, clutching a syringe. Draco started.

"You bloody _got_ it? Go on, then!"

Potter looked pale and shaken. "I don't… I don't know. This could… it might not…"

"It might not _what?"_

"He… _Snape_ gave this to me. It could be poison for all I know, the bastard just _showed up_ when I was looking for… and then he said… well, 'I'm on your side, Mr. Potter,' all menacing like, and… I don't know." He sounded shell-shocked and somewhat bitter. "He'll be dead if this isn't what it's supposed to be."

"Yeah, well, he's dead if you do nothing, so I'd stick him if I were you," Draco sneered- but there was no real venom in his voice. He was too tired and struggling to force down his own sense of shock at Potter's revelation. _Snape? But he's the real traitor here, he's…_

All the same, his words sparked something in Potter, and the other man crossed the room in three short strides to his friend's side. There was a split second of hesitation before he thrust the syringe into Ron's shoulder, just above the snakebite, and pressed it down, injecting him with the mysterious contents. Nothing happened for several long moments. Narcissa continued with her charms, casting basic healing spells on Ron's other injuries, completely ignoring Harry and the bite wound. At last, Ron's entire body shuddered with one heaving gasp; then his breathing leveled out. He remained unconscious, but he was no longer taking shallow, rattling breaths, and Potter let out a strangled sob of relief. Weasley would live. Draco clenched his teeth and stood abruptly, crossing back to the sitting room where Remus still knelt over Hermione's body.

She looked marginally better- Remus had cleaned the blood from her skin and clothes, but she was still covered in mottled purple bruises and dark red cuts. Her eyes were closed; the lids mapped with delicate blue veins that made her skin look as if it were about to tear. Without a word, Draco sunk to the floor beside the sofa and took both of her hands in his.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely, not even turning to look at Remus. The man only hummed in affirmation and turned his wand to his own leg, siphoning away the blood and mending the torn skin.

Draco was trying hard not to think of the horrible outcomes of the night when it came to him. _They know I'm a traitor, Voldemort'll be after me now, we don't know if the snake's alive or dead, Severus fucking Snape just saved Weasley's life and possibly isn't evil, my aunt was a fucking crazy bitch who tortured the girl I- fuck._ He widened his eyes; he looked at her pale, bruised face and her red raw arm, her sweat-soaked hair and her dark, delicate eyelashes and his heart twisted painfully in his chest. _Fuck._


End file.
